Blood and Sugar
by Happy Jak
Summary: A woman from L's past becomes the center of a universe filled with Mysogyny, Mystery and sex as bargaining and blackmail. She fights to survive while entangled in complex liasons and relationships.
1. The End

"Blood and Sugar"

PART 1

Chapter 1: The End

I looked out to the rainy afternoon in Tokyo through the metro train, which I had been riding on for four hours since arriving in Japan on a plane. I came in search of someone I loved. Someone I admired. He had left me all alone in London, with no explanation.

_Misty windows hide your empty eyes. Every moment, every whisper separates me from you._

I looked into two wide, espresso-black eyes, only kept living by caffeine. I played with his hands loosely. He just stared at his naked feet, twitching his toes. I sighed, and dropped his unresponsive, long fingers back to his side. "I don't understand why you can't tell me where you're going. I thought you trusted me." He bit his lip and looked back up at me, and said softly, "It doesn't matter if I tell you that I'm trying to protect you or I don't want you there, I know you're going to try to follow me. And I'll do everything in my power to stop you."

I took one step back, and looked at him, slouching, depressed and exhausted. "Well," I said, "You can't get rid of me that easy. I will find you, and you know it." He sighed, frustrated, and looked away. "Please don't. Just don't. I have reasons, and you know my reasons are always good enough. That should be enough for you." I frowned and looked down at my own slightly abnormally large feet. "It's not enough. I love you too much," I said. "My feet are huge." He picked up his bag and turned to the door.

"I happen to like your feet," he said, as he began to walk towards the door of the apartment. "Hey," I called after him. "I love you."

And he didn't say a damn word.

_Eyes wide open, but still blind to see what really matters. And insecurity won't go...See me in shadow._

I stepped off into a puddle, in front of a very tall building. If this was indeed the Kira investigation headquarters, it would be heavily monitored. I moved as casually as I could to the fire escape ladder. I began to climb up, and after a few stories, was beginning to regret the decision to wear black heels. At last I reached the top, collapsing upon the roof and ripping off the wretched shoes.

I couldn't believe my luck. He was standing right there. In the open. I began to step towards him. Thunder rolled and light flashed in the dark clouds. "Hey!" I called. He turned, with a tepid, saturnine face, with no surprise. I reached him, and I stood still, feeling nervous. After a few seconds of silence, I said, "I told you I would find you."

He walked towards me, and suddenly, collapsed into me with a hungry embrace. "I love you. I love you so much," he said, with barely a voice to speak with. I stood, holding him, in shock. He was completely broken down, near defeat. I closed my eyes, and grasped lightly at his hair. "You're...you're L, aren't you?"

"Yes," he said. "I am L." I closed my eyes. "I'm L..." he whispered. "I'm motherfucking L.." At this point, all I could think is how much this once mighty person, a god among men has absolutely lost it. I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled out a hard candy. I broke the embrace and unwrapped the candy, and placed the candy on his waiting tongue. He lightly grasped my hand and licked the sugar off my finger.

At this point, I couldn't hold back my insane lust. My skin was burning, my heart was racing and my fingers were tingling for him. I grasped his dark hair in my fingers and kissed him with the passion of Venus herself. We collapsed onto the ground, kissing, and biting at soft skin.

I pulled him ontop of me, and I tore at his shirt. He looked at me, and whispered softly, "You want to do this here? On the roof?" I sucked his lip and growled into his ear, "Yes. Yes please." He sighed, this time, with no sadness or dismay, and buried his face into my black, curly hair. His fingers delicately unbuttoned my dress. Soon, our clothes lay beside us, as he kissed me softly.

I cried out in pain and pleasure as we became one. The affair was long and sweaty, involving teeth, hair, lips and lots of pleasure and cries and moans. After he finished, we began to dress again, in silence, but with smiles and naughty glee. Secret sex is always fun.

But it came to an end to fast. We heard footsteps coming up the stairs to the roof. "You have to go, now!" he said, frantically, pulling on his shirt. He quickly helped me over the side of the roof onto the fire escape without a goodbye. Without an "I love you," without a kiss, not even a look. As I began to climb down, rain poured down, drenching me, and probably L too. I heard voices speaking, a young man's voice.

I couldn't leave without seeing this boy. I climbed up back to the top, and peeked over. The young man was tall, with light brown hair. The conversation was almost impossible to hear. But I managed to catch the name. Raito Yagami.

Raito Yagami. I would remember that.

I climbed back down the side of the building, down onto the sidewalk. I began to walk for the metro station, but a black car pulled up beside me. It was a BMW, with tinted windows. The window in the back rolled down, and a blonde girl began yelling at me gleefully in Japanese. I said, nervously, "I don't understand, I don't speak Japanese." She smiled. "Sorry. Won't you get in, it's pouring down rain. Mogi-san, let this girl ride with us." 'Mogi', a tall, very masculine man grunted and nodded, and the girl opened the door.

"I'm Misa! Amane Misa," she said sweetly. "What's your name?" I smiled politely and said, "Xian Xi, I just came here from Hong Kong." Misa looked down at me feet and said in surprise, "You're not wearing shoes? You must be like my friend Ryuzaki. He never wears shoes." Mogi scolded her in Japanese. L never wore shoes, ever. I knew it was a little assumptous, but Ryuzaki must be L. But then, another thing came to mind, that made my stomach turn over.

I left my shoes on the roof! I couldn't ask to go back and get them, Misa might wonder what I was doing on a roof. I would have to risk coming back tomorrow for them. "My hotel is on the next right. Thanks," I smiled, and corrected myself cutely, "I mean, Arrigato."

I made it back into my hotel room. It was desperately cold, because I was drenched from heavy rain. I took a hot shower and changed into a t-shirt and sweat pants. I grabbed the hotel stationery pad, and scribbled down,

1. Raito Yagami

2.

I had a gut feeling this information would help me somehow. I placed the pad back down on the desk, and collapsed into my bed. The clock said 11:37 PM. I closed my eyes, and drifted to sleep.


	2. Pendulum

Chapter II: Pendulum

I was once again sitting in Misa's black BMW, with her smiling sweetly beside me, and Mogi driving us to her apartment. She had showed up at my hotel room, insisting that I come over for dinner with her and her boyfriend. I obliged, she was a nice girl, and I needed to get my mind off of L. It was weird hearing her calling me Xian. It wasn't my real name. I just used it to fit into Japan a little better. Truthfully, while I was half chinese, I had never set foot in Hong Kong or any part of China. I had only learned the language in High School. I was from England, living most of my life in London.

I met L in college. Everyone was a little intimidated by him, but I was fascinated by him. We challenged each other mentally. I liked that he was very weird, it made me laugh. It was refreshing to meet someone like that. Back then, I knew him as Laure Lawliet. After college, we moved in together and lived together. I had suspected him of being L for a long time, because no matter how good he was at hiding it, when you live together, some things just come out. And then four months ago, he said he had to go to Japan on business. Right at the start of the Kira case.

"Yay! We're here! Now you can meet my Raito-kun!" Misa squealed. My attention was drawn when she said Raito. Raito, as in Raito Yagami? We stepped out of the car, up the stairs and into a very lavish apartment. It was large, and had fine european furniture. It was not surprising, Misa Amane was a prominent model and pop star.

Misa called out for her beau, yelling sweet nothings at him in Japanese. Raito stepped out...the same Raito Yagami. He looked calm and friendly. He said, "Hi, Misa told me about you and insisted that we meet." I walked over to him and shook his hand. "I'm Xian," I said. "I'm visiting here from Hong Kong. My boyfriend is here on business, and depending how long it takes, I might move here." Raito squinted at me and smirked a bit. "What kind of business? Also, you don't look very Chinese to me," he said. I was taken aback, but I kept my calm. "He's involved in the technology industry," I lied. "And my father was English." I used the strategy of telling the truth and lie where neccesary. The technology industry was huge in Japan, it was a believable lie.

We sat down on the couch, while Misa scuttled into the kitchen to get some coffee. "And besides, Raito, you don't look very Japanese, you have brown hair," I said. Raito chuckled lightly, and repsonded, "Fair enough. Sorry." I smiled politely, even though I really didn't like him. Misa came back in, setting three cups of steaming coffee on the coffee table. She sat next to Raito, and we began adding condiments to our coffee. Raito looked over at my cup, and observed, "You like sugar, don't you?" I could feel his eyes burning into me, challenging me. I turned and met his challenge, glaring right back.

I joked casually, "Yeah, I like a coffee with my sugar." Raito chuckled, and Misa laughed with vigor. "See, Raito-kun? She's so funny!" Misa said. I continued the conversation casually, but with the ulterior motive to probe Raito. "So, I know Misa is a model and actress, I see her all over those Yotsuba commericals," I said. "But what do you do, Raito?" Raito set his cup down, and calmly said, "I work for the police department." I took a sip of my poisonously diabetes-sweet coffee, and said, "Well, you must of heard about Kira. It's insane. Some people worship him, like he's a god. The whole 'cleaning up the world' is just a weak justification. It's obvious he's in it for the power. He's nothing but a serial killer."

Raito shifted a little bit. I could tell he was trying to surpress anger. He folded his hands, took a deep breath and said, "Crime rates have gone down as much as 70 in the world. Even if Kira is just a murderer, the peace is definately a plus." I was very pleased with this, I could push his buttons right in. I had a good feeling who Kira was. "That's not peace," I said. "It's just fear. As soon as Kira is caught, the world will go back to what it was before. More violent, maybe, but you could be human without living in fear of some crazed wannabe demigod."

Raito turned to Misa, and said gently, "Misa, why don't you get the salad started?" Misa nodded and scampered into the kitchen. Raito's demeanor changed immediately. "Xian, you are a very smart lady," he said. "It's nice to meet someone with half a brain, for once." His voice was lower and softer. His hand migrated onto my leg. Tsk, tsk, Raito, I thought. He was trying to seduce me. Even though I felt uncomfortable, and it was a little creepy, I went with it. "Thank you, Raito," I said. "You're a very smart man yourself." He leaned into my face and kissed my cheek lightly. I faked a smile, pretending that I was smitten with him.

Misa popped out of the kitchen and said gleefully, "Salad's ready. Let's all go to the table." We moved in to the dining room. Misa and Raito sat on one end of the table, and I sat on the other. I took a bit of the salad, and I was surprised how good it was. Misa must be practicing those housewife skills. "This is delightful, Misa," I said. "I love Romaine." Raito nodded in agreement. Misa smiled huge in pure delight. "Can I offer anyone anything to drink?" Raito asked. I said, "I'll have a glass of water, thanks." Misa said sweetly, "We have this great wine we imported from spain, you must try it. Oh, it's to DIE for!" I nodded, "okay, sure." Raito returned with two glasses of red wine. Misa downed hers quickly, while I sipped my thoughtfully. Raito once again disappeared into the kitchen. He called from the kitchen, "Dinner's about ready. Xian, I hope you like linguini with mussels."

"Yes, I love mussels," I said. Misa got up and cleared the salad bowls. They both came back out with three plates of food. The three of us ate the meal with little talk. Afterwards, as Raito was clearing the plates, Misa yawned and stretched, and said, "I think I'm going to bed. You guys can stay up and chat." She got up, walked over to Light, embraced him, and whispered sweetly to him in Japanese.

Misa retired into their bedroom. Raito and I sat on the couch. I scratched my head, and said, "You know, I should get going too. It's late, I'm sure you'd rather be in bed with Misa. I'll call a taxi." Raito placed his hand on my shoulder, and said softly, "Let me drive you home. It's dangerous at night." I nodded. I knew it was dangerous, but if I declined, he might be on to me. I got up, picked up my jacket, and put it on. Raito held my arm as he walked to a white mercedez parked by the apartment. I got into the passenger seat and he got into the driver's seat. "I'm staying at the Teito Hotel, do you know where that is?" I asked. Raito nodded, and during the whole drive we didn't say a word. The air was thick with anticipation and uncertainty. I was pretty sure I was riding in a car with Kira, all alone.

We pulled up to the hotel. I looked at him, and said casually, "Thanks for dinner, it was lovely. Bye." Raito grabbed my arm, rather firmly, and said, "Let me walk you to your room. Please." I nodded and stepped out of the car. Raito turned the car off and also got out. He walked close to me, all the way to my room. We stopped at my door, and pulled out the key card to the room. I said softly, "Goodnight." Raito once again grabbed my arm. "Let me come in for a while," he said quietly. "I really want to talk to you more, alone."

I was a little afraid, feeling a bit vunerable, scared of what I might have to do. I opened the door, and he followed me in. The door closed loudly behind us. I stared at the window dead on, motionless. I jumped when I felt hands caressing my shoulders. "It's okay," Raito said softly. "I'm on the investigation team for the Kira case. You're so smart, I think you could help us." He breathed into my ear lustfully. "God, you are beautiful," he hissed at me.

"Raito," I whispered. "I'm actually here looking for L." I had to share something. He knew, and I had to cooperate in order for my plan to work. Raito nibbled at my ear, and hissed quietly, "I'm working under L right now. Why are you looking for him?" I sighed, and said, "I'm a relative of his. I just want to meet him." I couldn't possibly admit I was L's lover. Raito would dispose of me for sure.

"I have to use the bathroom, I'll be right back," I said quietly. I retreated into the bathroom. I scrummaged in my medicine bag, and pulled out a prescription bottle of valium. I had had surgery a few months ago, and took the valium to calm my nerves and for the pain. I opened the bottle, and dumped two pills into my hand. I took a paper cup from next to the sink, and filled it with water. I swallowed the pills and drank the water quickly.

I opened the door to the bathroom. I slipped off my jacket, and placed it on a nearby chair. I was starting to feel the drugs working. I looked at Raito, sitting on my bed. I'm so sorry, love, I thought. This is for you.

I sat next to Raito on the bed. Reality was fading away, becoming nothing but a lucid dream. His hand clasped my face and he pulled me into a hard, foreceful kiss. I felt nothing. I didn't fight. He firmly nudged me on to the bed on my back. He lay on top of me, kissing me hungrily. I closed my eyes as I felt hands unbuttoning my shirt. I lay almost motionless while he had his way with me. I shut out his cries, his moans. Xian! he would call. Finally it was over, and he got up. We dressed in silence.

We walked to the door, and shared a light goodbye kiss. Still in a fog, I stepped out onto the balcony. I put a cigarette between my trembling lips. I pulled out a butane lighter from my pocket and lit it, taking a drag. I was starting to come down off my high. Emotions were coming back. Shame. I felt dirty. Raito could have killed me, but somehow having sex with him, betraying my friend and my lover just felt worse than death. I had to be Raito's puppet in order to help L catch Kira. I didn't know what I was going to do next. I was probably going to be torn down to nothing, but I would do anything for L.


	3. Frozen

Chapter III: Frozen

_3 days later._

I was out on the streets of Tokyo, walking around and getting some fresh air. My mind was heavily troubled. L had not called me, or showed any sign of existance since out rendez-vous on the roof four days previous. I was beginning to have a bad feeling about it. Kira was indeed a dangerous advisary, with seemingly supernatural means of killing. L dying was a fact I was not ready to face. I chose to shut it out until I knew it was true.

I was startled when I heard my cell phone ring. I took it out, and saw that Raito was calling me. I cringed inwardly at the thought of that dirty git. I opened it and answered. "Hello?" I said. Raito's voice came through on the other end, low and soft. "I want to see you. Are you free?" I thought for a moment, and responded. "Yeah," I said. "What did you have in mind, Raito?" He said quickly, "I'll pick you up and take you to my apartment. Misa is working. Where are you right now?" I gave him the name of the street. "Okay, I'm not far. I'll be right there," he said, and hung up.

About 10 minutes later, Raito pulled up next to me in his white mercedez. I got in the passenger seat, and shut the door. "I missed you," he said. "I've been thinking about you." I could see right through his lies, but once again, I went with it. "I missed you too, Raito," I said. "How is the investigation going?" He sighed, and said, "There's something I need to tell you about that, Xian. But I want to wait until we get to the apartment to tell you." I felt a little nervous. My hands clenched the seat belt. Finally we pulled up to the apartment. I pulled off my jacket as we stepped inside, and Raito stepped into the kitchen. I feel into the plush couch, and Raito came back with two glasses with red fluid in them. He sat beside me, and stretched an arm around me. I took a sip of the liquid; it was juice.

I set my glass down, and turned to speak. "So," I started nervously. "What did you want to tell me?" Raito sighed again, with an almost perfect impression of despair. "Xian, I don't know how to tell you this," He said. "But L was killed four days ago. By Kira. I wanted to tell you, but the time wasn't right. I'm so sorry."

..

...

...

...

He leaned in to me, and started kissing me. My lips were unresponsive to his lips and tongue.

...

...

...

...

I shoved him. He fell over the coffee table, spilling his drink all over his white dress shirt. I placed my hands over my mouth. The utter shock and rage had exploded out of me. L was dead. Dead. Dead. Gone. Forever. No more. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to strangle him, make him suffer until he died. But I had to keep up the game. I had to, or I would die.

"Raito," I trembled. "I-I'm sorry, I was just in shock an-", "Shut up," Raito snapped at me, as he got up off the floor. "I know exactly who you are. Misa saw you climbing down the fire escape. I found your shoes, Cinderella. You thought you had me going, didn't you? Your boyfriend is not in technology. He was L, and now he's dead." I trembled in fear. I had underestimated Kira, and now I was truly in danger. He turned away from me, and laughed evilly. His true self seemed to seep through his thin facade. "I'm Kira," he said.

Something in my head went off like an alarm...**RUN. RUN. RUN. NOW!**

I sprang up and sprinted for the door, but I didn't even get my hand on the handle. He caught my arm and through me against the wall by the door. He stood, his body against me, staring at me, evilly and lustfully. I trembled. I didn't want to die like this. He pressed against me hard, pushing his erection against me. I stared into the kitchen light right near me, and I prayed. Make it stop. Don't let him rape me. Please, Jesus, save my life. His hands groped my body, migrating to the buttons on my shirt. But instead of unbuttoning my shirt, he grabbed the collar with his hands and ripped it halfway open. He bit my neck and the top of my breast hard. I cried out with pain, hoping my fearful reaction would be enough.

But I fought back. I pushed him, and slapped him hard, just to put him in shock long enough for me to get to the door. I didn't make it. I was thrown onto the floor, but hitting my head on the way down. I felt blood leaking down my scalp. His body crashed into mine. He pinned my legs down with his, and sat up. "Take off your shirt," he demanded. "And your bra." I responded, "Please..don't do this to me." Raito punched me in the stomach and shouted, "NOW!" I buckled over and coughed, but quickly did as I was told. He stared down at me, his prey. His hands roughly felt over my upper body. One of his hands slid into my pants and under my underthings. I cried out in pain as he violated me with his fingers.

"Moan, you whore," he said. "I know you want it." I meakly faked a moan, hoping that he would finally let me go. Seeming to be satisfied. He took his hand out of my pants and got off of me. "You can put your top on now, if you want," he said, coldly and emotionless. As I finished buttoning up my shirt, I asked weakly, "Can I go now?" Raito smiled evilly and said, "No, I have one more task for you."

He stood close in front of me. "Unzip my pants," he hissed. My trembling hands reached his pants. I unzipped his pants like he wanted. I had a terrible feeling about what he wanted me to do. "Suck it, bitch. Do it well," he growled. "You belong to me. You will do what I say, or I will kill you."

Defeated. I was utterly defeated. I took a deep breath and reached into his underwear and pulled out his hot, throbbing erection. I closed my eyes and took him into my mouth. He moaned slightly. I rolled my tongue over his tip, causing him to shudder and groan loudly. "..Faster..." he pleaded. "Gimme more..." I did as directed. I moved up and down faster, while continuing to tease the tip. He screamed in pleasure, both from the sex and the power. He grasped my neck hard, and thrust into my mouth and my throat. I clenched my face, but tried not to make any sounds of displeasure.

My mouth was suddenly filled with what tasted like salt water. I coughed and spit up on the floor. Raito sighed, satisfied, and tucked himself back in. I panted and gasped for breath. And then I found the energy to spring up and run for the door. No one stopped me this time. I flew out the door, down to the street and to the metro station. I took a train back to my hotel. Arriving at my room, I flung the door open, and collasped into my bed, and wept.

--

In figurative speech, Raito may have won the battle, but he didn't win the war. He may have sexually assaulted me and threatened me, but I was still going to battle him. I would not be silenced by a wannabe demigod. No way in hell.

But it was without a doubt that I was in over my head. I needed some help, and I knew who would help. Quillish Whammy owned an orphange for gifted children. It's where L grew up. I had to find Whammy, he was like my grandfather. I knew he could help me. So I had packed my belongings and booked a flight back to London. I would have to make haste, in case Raito thought I was running away. So the day after the incident with Raito, I made off for the airport.

After a long 12 hour flight, the plane landed in London. It was very late when I got to London. 6:25 in the morning. And I had a 4 hour train ride to the Orphange. So finally, at about 10:30 in the morning, and 16 hours of travel, I arrived at Whammy's House. It was a large and extravagant mansion, with an expansive lawn, and a large fountain near the gate. I knocked on the door firmly, and stood on the front step nervously. The large door opened, and an older man with a narrow but thick mustache stood before me. He was rather short and stout, but just from his face I could tell something terrible must have happened.

"May I help you, young lady?" he asked. I said quickly, "I need to see Mr. Whammy, right away. I'm in trouble." The man's face dropped even longer and he said sypathatically, "Oh, you poor girl. Come in. I'm afraid I have some bad news."

I followed him into the house. I had been there before, and it looked the same as always. Tall ceiling, loads of portraits on the walls. I followed the man to Whammy's study, and inside were two boys.

I knew one of them. Mihael, or as he calls himself, Mello. He was a bright young man, and very kind to me. But he had problems lashing out at others. The other boy was an albino boy, sitting on the floor. I had seen him once or twice, but he seemed too preoccupied with puzzles. Mello turned around and looked with surprise. He said nervously, "M-Morgan. Hey." I smiled at him. "Hi, Mello. It's been a while," I said. His face was slightly pink. I looked down at the other boy, still wrapped up in his puzzle. "Hey, little boy," I said. He looked over his shoulder and said, spitefully, "I'm not a little boy." I was a little surprised, and said, "Sorry...my name is Morgan." The boy, not taking his eyes off the puzzle, said simply, "Hiya. I'm Near."

"My name is Roger," said the short and stout man. "I'm very sorry to tell you this, but Mr. Whammy has passed away...and L.." I stopped him from saying it. "I know about..L," I said. "But I'm in trouble right now. I need help." Mello walked over to me, and looked into my eyes, and said, "I'll protect you. Anything you need, anything." He had gotten very tall and strong. It was no secret he had feelings for me. He seemed to be the opposite of Near. Near was emotionless and cold.

I stepped out of the room with Mello, while Roger continued talking to Near. "Where did these bruises come from?" he asked. I looked down at my feet. "Who did this to you?" he asked firmly, anger seeming to boil up in him. "Kira," I said softly. His eyes widened, and he took a step back. "Kira," he repeated. "Do you know who it is? Like a name?" I bit my lip. "No," I lied. I'm not sure why I lied. Maybe I just didn't want to say his name.

"I have a plan. It sounds crazy. It probably is," he said. "Stick with me. You'll be alright."


	4. Addiction

Chapter IV: Addiction

Mello and I flew to Los Angeles the next day after arriving at Whammy's House. We were at the baggage claim, with a number of mysterious men. I picked up my black leather suitcase from the revolving circular belt. "We have to make this look like a kidnapping," Mello said, as he collected his own belongings. "When we get to the base, I'll need to restrain you and photograph you to send to the Japanese police, where Kira is involved, like you said, right?" I opened the handle on my suitcase. "I don't know about this, Kira might kill me, knowing I'm in enemy hands," I said. "And what's with these guys? Who are they?" Mello smirked and said confidently, "There guys are the best in the biz for my plan. Right now, I have other agents capturing the Chief Director of the Japanese Police."

"Well, what's the point of that?" I asked. Mello reached into his black knapsack and pulled out a very full manilla folder. "They have something I want," he said. He handed me the folder, and after just a few seconds, I knew exactly what it was. This was the Kira case file. The thing that Mello wanted was undoubtedly the "Deathnote," a notebook that alledgedly kills just by writing a name down in it. "...Deathnote?" I said. "You have to be kidding me. A silly little notebook?" "No joke," Mello said. "I thought it was crazy, but it makes sense. What else could kill thousands of people, in thousands of different locations, all at once?" I looked down at my feet again, thinking. This was crazy. How could something like this come into existance?

We left LAX, and outside was an old muscle car, and inside was a boy about Mello's age, wearing goggles, a striped long-sleeve shirt, and a fleece vest. "You go with Matt," Mello said. "He's trustworthy, don't worry." Mello and the goon-men got inside a black SUV, and I stepped up to Matt's car. I opened the door, and he looked over at me, and said, "Hey, hurry up, we gotta go, man." I got in the car and buckled myself in, and just as soon I was restrained, he floored it and took off onto the interstate. I looked around the car, and I noticed a gamecube buckled into the backseat. Matt noticed me gawking at the strange sight, and said casually, "Gotta protect my baby, m'am."

My cell started ringing, and I immediately debated whether to answer it. I pulled it out, and saw that Misa was calling me. I let it ring, and she ended up leaving me a voicemail. I listened to the voicemail. "Hey, Xian, this is Misa," she said. "I stopped by your hotel room, and it was totally empty. I just wanna know where you are. Raito is worried too. Call me when you get this, okay?" I closed my phone. I looked over at Matt, smoking a cigarette while racing down the interstate. He seemed very locked into the road. "Can I bum one off you?" I asked, pointing at his cigarette. Matt didn't say anything, and just tossed me the pack. I balanced the fag between my lips and lit it with my butane lighter.

"Badass lighter," he said, looking at my lighter. "Yeah," I said. "My boyfriend gave it to me before he died. It saved his life once." Matt chortled and said, "Then why's he dead?" I looked at my feet and said, "Not even the most badass lighter can save you from Kira." He twitched, looking a little uncomfortable, probably feeling guilty. "I'm sorry," he said. "Anyway, how did it save his life?" I took a long drag of my cigarette. "Someone tried to shoot him, but the lighter deflected the shot," I said, pointing out the dent in the lighter. "Cool," Matt said. "Hold on."

He took a sharp turn onto a dirt road. He stopped on the side of the road, and turned off the car. "Take off your clothes," he said simply. In shock, I responded, "Wh-what?!" Matt smirked and said, "Chillax. Here." He handed me a black garbage bag. "There's some other clothes in there, I'll step out. I won't peek, promise," he said, stepping out of the car, with his back leaning against the window. I pulled off my t-shirt and jeans, socks and shoes. I reached into the bag, and pulled out a silver, shiny evening gown, black pumps, and underthings. I removed my underwear and tossed my clothes into the garbage bag. I put on the new underthings and the dress, and then opened the window we tossed out the bag. "Dump your other clothes out here too," Matt said. "Why do I need to change my clothes?" I asked as I emptied my suitcase of my clothes. "We need to avoid the risk of tracking devices," he said. Then, he promptly dropped his smoldering cigarette butt onto the pile of clothes. They immediately ignited, burning all the clothes I had. Matt got back in the car and we were off again.

"We're not far now," Matt said. "Just a couple miles further." I looked onto the oncoming landscape, but I saw nothing but sand. After another fifteen minutes, the road utterly disppeared into the sand. He drove another a few feet, and stopped. "Weeeeeellpp," he said. "This is your stop." I looked at him, very confused, waiting for an explanation. "Bye," he just said, waiting for me to get out. "Uh," I stammered, trying to figure out the fact that there was nothing there. "Well, what d'ya want? A goodbye kiss?" He said, irritated. "Well, you are kinda pretty," he smirked at me. I scoffed at him, and said, annoyed, "Seeya." I got out of his car, and as soon as I shut the door, he sped off, leaving a trail of dust behind him.

I walked around the area looking for any sign of a building or something. After a few minutes, I stepped on something metal. I looked down and saw it was trap door, covered in sand. I bent down and took the handle in my hand. I opened the heavy door, and inside, was a dark staircase. Beyond that, I heard voices echoeing. I started down the staircase, using my lighter to light the way, until I came into a room with several extravagant couches, and several men sitting in them. I put the lighter away, and looked around. I saw Mello sitting in a couch on the right side of the room, eating chocolate. "Hey," Mello said, causing the others to acknowledge my presence.

"What's with the dress? I look like a member of the mafia," I said. Mello nodded in the direction of the other men. "That's the point," he said. "They're mafia members, and I wanted you fit in." Suddenly, the goony-ness of these guys made sense. "Mello," I said. "I'm beginning to doubt the legal integrity of your plan." The group burst into hysterical laughter, except for Mello, who just sat there, thoughtfully chewing his chocolate. "I'd like to get into that dress," one of the guys said. "Easy there, Kal, you might make blondy mad," said one of the others. Indeed, Mello looked furious, and eyed Kal with an I-am-going-to-disembowel-you-and-eat-your-first-born look. "No really," he continued. "Come over here, baby, come sit on Santa's lap, he got a present for y-AUGH!" A bullet hole smoldered in the wall right about Kal's head. Kal's face was white as a sheet, and he sat completely still, petrified. Mello sat there, with a deadly KEEP-MACKING-ON-MY-WOMAN-AND-I-WILL-SERIOUSLY-BLOW-YOUR-FUCKING-BRAINS-OUT glare. I decided to tear Mello away from the dirty-minded henchman before any brain matter ends up on the antique rug.

"Mello, can I please talk to you privately?" I asked. He set the pistol down, and said, "Sure," with a little bite to his voice. We walked out of the room and into a corridor, and I rolled my eyes as I heard snickering coming from the mafia members. Mello and I stepped into a dormitory, and he shut the door behind us. "What is this place?" I asked. "This is an old base used for making excahnges. It's perfect for our uses," he said. "And what was up with Kal? Defensive much," I said, poking a little fun at him. Mello kicked the floor, staring down at it, and said, "Well. I just care about you. Alot. You know." I saw a little pink sprouting up in his face again. "Aww, come here," I said, opening my arms, offering a hug. He just stood there, looking into my eyes. I dropped my arms, just waiting for something to happen. "Morgan," he said quietly. "Yes..?" I answered him.

And with that, his lips crashed into mine, seeming to burn with desire and agression. His tongue tasted like chocolate, with a hint of mint mixed in. There was something strangely hypnotic about the way his gloved hand rubbed the side of my neck. The cool, rough leather seemed to make my skin burn. He pressed up against me and backed me into the wall. He broke the kiss and started kissing at my neck. "..Mello.." I cried weakly, trying to allow myself to want to stop. And then, he started grinding against me, and all willpower just melted away. "..oh..." was all I could manage to breathe out.

"Boss, we gotta situation," came the calls of one of the henchman in the hall. "Where are you?" Mello pulled away from me, much to my inner dismay. He stepped out of the door without another word. I was left reeling, begging for more. I was addicted now.


	5. Euphoric

Chapter V: Euphoric

The Chief Director of the Japanese police commited suicide. He hung himself with his tie; or at least that's how it seemed. There was always the possiblity that Raito - Kira did it. But it was very difficult to tell, unless we could get our hands on Kira's own Deathnote. Mello decided to get much more personal with the taskforce, and had his moles in Japan capture Sayu Yagami. It would seem that Raito got his start in the taskforce from his father Soichiro, and Sayu was his younger sister. I couldn't help but to wonder if Sayu was evil as Raito was.

I still had another job to do; I had to tell Raito that I had been kidnapped, and pray that I wouldn't die. I didn't know what he was going to use me for, besides sexual gratification, and he had many willing and unwilling participants for that. But still, I used the phone in the base (its number could not be displayed on a normal phone) and dialed Raito's personal number. I mentally prepared myself, while it rang, five times. Finally, there was a click and Raito's voice came through. "Hai," he said quickly. "Raito," I sobbed into the phone. "I'm in trouble. These guys took me from my hotel and made me come to California with them. There's a blonde man here, I think he's the leader..." I said, faking hysteria. "It's Mello," Raito said. "He's got my sister, he's gonna trade her for the Deathnote. Are you hurt?" I pursed my lips, and continued. "No, I'm fine," I said. "I managed to steal the phone while they were out of the room. Raito...whatever you do...don't kill me.." Raito sighed. "I won't," he said. "I need you right now, anyway. Are they asking a ransom?"

I forced out more tears, and said, "No...they know I was connected to L, they want me give them information." "Well, in that case," Raito said. "Cooperate, but flounder around. Don't tell them anything important. Help will be there soon, in a couple of days." I started panting, as though very frightened. "Raito," I said. "I have to go. They're coming back. I will talk as soon as I can." "No," he said. "Don't do anything to risk your safety. I have a plan I'm getting ready to set into action, and I really need you alive for it." I hung up, and exited the dormitory, back into the main sitting room. I placed the phone back onto the reciever. The room was empty, aside from Mello, busy setting up the the display screens to watch the awaited transaction. "Mello," I tried. He didn't even turn around or acknowledge me. It was pretty awkward, I suppose. Trying to act normal after pawing and mauling each other like animals. "I did what you asked me to do."

"Cool," was all he apparently he had to say. I decided not to pick at it. There were more important things at hand. Kal and a couple of others came down the staircase, and they were grasping a young girl by the arms. She looked only about eighteen or so. She had long, dark brown hair, and the same hazel-brown eyes as Raito. Without a doubt, this girl was Sayu Yagami. I immediately felt pity for her. She didn't look anything like her brother. She was just a victim caught in the crossfire. Mello turned to the girl, unwrapping a chocolate bar. "Sorry about this," he said. "As long as we get what we want, we won't harm a hair on your head." He smirked, in an almost callous, uncaring way. This is where I was starting to disagree with Mello's methodology. This was just an innocent girl. If we didn't get our prize, were we supposed to kill this girl? And what about the Chief Director? Weren't we somewhat responsible for his death, if Kira wasn't involved? It was true, that Mello was very different from L.

"Set her in front of the TV," Mello directed. "Turn it on, and set it to something playing live. Then take a photo with the camera phone and send it to Chief Yagami on my command." The men obliged, blinding Sayu in handcuffs, taping her mouth shut, and then taking the picture as directed. Mello picked up the phone, dialed a number, and Chief Yagami answered. "Your daughter's finally arrived here," he said. "You've got a rough idea about where we are, don't you? The exchange will be made over here. You will bring the book, by yourself, to LA in two days. Stay at the Lake Hotel." He paused for a moment, listening to Yagami on the other side. "I can't do that," he continued. "Don't worry, if I let her speak she might try to bite off her tongue. I can't make an exchange if the hostage dies again, right?" He smirked, it seemed to be going in his favour. "But you know...if you or I announce to the public that the kidnapper is asking for the Notebook in echange for her, I'll bet she'll die. But, I'm not the police, and I've got no intention of leaking the information. That gives you a good reason to keep this between us, you know?" Yagami seemed pretty upset, as I could hear his voice yelling indistincly. "Okay, okay, I'll e-mail you a picture," Mello said, pointing at the others to signal them to send the photo.

Mello hung up the phone, and bit into his chocolate, with a sense of pure glee. For someone with good intentions, he seemed to act an awful lot like an evil genius. "Put the girl in the basement. Allow her to eat and drink but don't let her do anything funny," Mello said. Two of the mafia members collected Sayu and took her down the corridor and into the basement. "Two days," Mello said to himself. "Now we just have to wait." He spun around in his chair with a wicked smile on his face.

He swung around and hopped out of his chair and down into the corridor. I followed behind him. "Everything's going as planned, Morgan," he said. "Oh, so you're acknowledging my existance, now?" I said. It was a little catty of me, but I was a little bitter about being ignored. He slid the last piece of chocolate into his mouth. "Shorry," he said with a full mouth. "And, I can't say I approve greatly of your methods," I continued. "This isn't what L would do, at all." He rolled his eyes resentfully. "Everybody wants me to be just like L. Fuck that," he said angrily. "I get it. I know you loved L, and you don't really care about me, much. To you, yesterday was a cheap thrill. But to me, it actually meant something. So do me a favour, and stop poisoning me. Just hate me. Please." He stepped into the dorm room again, attempting to shut the door on me, but I managed to slip through, and shut the door myself. "I can't hate you, Mihael," I said. He looked up suddenly at the mention of his real name. "You know, when I first met you, when I was twelve, I thought L didn't appreciate you enough. Isn't it true you came to see us when L was away on his cases, that he would never let you help him with? Did he even tell you he was L, Morgan?" I looked my feet, wiggling my toes nervously. "No," I said meekly.

"But maybe he was trying to protect me. Maybe he didn't want me to get hurt, or-" "Or maybe, he needed to keep his ego and do everything alone. You may have saw him as the love of your life, but all I saw was a concieted man with just a trophy on his arm." Hot tears managed to break out of my eyes. I didn't want to believe a thing Mello was telling me, but I knew deep down that he was right. "Fine," I said. "I'm the freakin' sucker. Now what?" I cried like I should have when I knew L was dead. I cried like I should have when I should have ended it a long time ago. "Don't cry," he said, as he wiped a tear from my cheek. "Why not?" I said, pushing his hand away. He grasped my chin lightly and lifted my face up. "Just don't, because I love you."

And somehow, as though trapped inside of some vaccuum, I was pulled into a soft, slow kiss. My lips seemed to scream with emotions, so many that the message was getting jumbled. Our lips parted for only a second, just to breathe, but every second felt like moments, and moments felt like days. He placed his hands firmly on my waist, and lifted me up. I landed softly on a bed nearby, and he got on top of me. I then realized exactly what he had in mind. I felt like reality was slipping away, I felt deeply encased in a dream. He started kissing me again, running his hands along my shoulders, lightly with his fingertips. I could barely stand it, every part of me was screaming. My heart screamed with affection, my brain screamed with lust, and my skin screamed with ecstacy. It was begging for more. More touch, more kisses. Give me more. His lips found their way to my neck, kissing and nibbling softly. My hand its way into his long hair, petting it. My fingers, trembling, grasped the zipper to his shirt. Slowly, all the clothes on the upper half of his body fell away. I tocuhed his chest, his skin was hot, burning with heat.

Hands. They clasped my thighs, rubbing them, moving up, catching the silky fabric of the dress. It slipped over my head, and was discarded. His lips moved back to my neck, while his hands massaged my stomach, making me groan softly, my skin was smoldering. More. His kisses moved down my neck, down my collar bone, and paused at the top of my breasts. My own hands migrated to his back, clawing, kneading, begging for more. His hands moved onto my back, attacking my bra. He pulled it off, adding it to the pile of clothes. I felt nervous now, feeling naked. I shivered as I felt his tongue on my skin. "...oh god," was all I could manage to say. My eyes rolled back in my head. And then my heart started pumping with anticipation. He started kissing down my stomach, to my waist. I started panting lightly as he pulled off my underwear. He moved back up, and pushed me into another smoldering kiss.

I took a sharp breath in, as I felt his fingers penetrate me. I felt my walls closing in, and I faded into an intense and truly euphorical high. I could only moan, and knead at his back as they moved in and out. I leaned up, kissing him and biting his lip. I unbuttoned his pants nervously. I reached my hand down below his underwear, and did something I hadn't ever done voluntarily to a man before. I grasped his hot, throbbing member in my hand, gently caressing it. I ran my thumb over the tip, enjoying the hot air as he groaned into my ear. But then he stopped me. He took my hand, and pulled it out of his underwear. But then, he let me know why. He laid me back down on my back, and he spread my legs apart. I could barely breathe. My face cringed in slight pain as I felt him coming in, but it was soon replaced with white hot pleasure. It started off slow, but hard. Our burning bodies started sweating as they ground together. I bit my lip and my eyebrows clenched a little, trying to hold back moans and screams. But he seemed completely lost in it, breathing loud, his eyes tightly closed. He started speeding up, starting to get close. "...Morgan," he choked out, as he reached his climax. He struggled to keep going, his face clenched as I dug my nails into his skin, almost at my own climax. Finally, as thought a cold ocean wave engulfed me, I rolled my eyes into my head as I shook with pleasure.

Getting dressed afterwards, was a mix of awkward and happiness. "Was I any good?" he asked me. "It was kinda my first time.." I smiled at him. "Honestly," I said. "It was pretty amazing."

--END OF ACT I--


	6. Afterglow

--ACT II--

Chapter VI: Afterglow

The day had come for the exchange of the Deathnote for Sayu Yagami. There was only two hours to go before Soichiro Yagami would arrive here. Everybody was restless, preparing for any police interference. Mello was monitoring the situation through a PA system, that couldn't be intercepted on the plane. "As long as you do what I say, I won't lay a finger on either one of you," he said. "I've even thought up an exchange that you will feel safe and satisfied with."

I knew he meant the revolving door at the front of this underground building. It had bullet proof glass, so Yagami could not shoot or be shot sucessfully. Mello bit into a fresh bar of chocolate. I sat restlessly in a couch on the west side of the sitting room, biting my nails. And for the next hour and a half, we all waited in silence. Until, finally Mello leaned into the microphone, and said, "Listen up, Yagami. Before that plane lands in LA, it's going to make a pit stop. That's where your daughter will be. The plane's going to drop you off, and then we'll exchange your daughter for the notebook. As long as you don't try anything funny, I assure you that both of you will not be killed. The rest of the passengers on that plane are only going to be late getting to LA, and nothing will happen to them either." Mello smirked, and bit off another piece of chocolate.

"Look," he said. "There are two reasons I promise to keep you and your daughter alive. First, I don't want Kira's eyes on us. I used Takimura's death, but we didn't kill him. Kira probably did it. But if we you or your daughter, there's a chance that we'll be Kira's next target." He ate another piece and continued. "And secondly," he said. "I don't want to get into any more trouble with the Japanese Police. As a result of this deal, Takimura died. But there's no reason for us to kill you two and the Police even more enraged. For our own safety, you're better off alive. Now, wasn't that more believable than some lame excuse?" Mello took a breath and said, "Yagami, I want you to contact L. You should be in a position to contact L. I dont care if you contact him directly or through or one of your men. I want you to get L to stop every media report on flight SE333. If the media reports that you got off the plane alone, Kira might decide to kill you. After I confirm that L has stopped the media, I'll send you a picture of how your daughter's doing."

Mello made a hand gesture to signal the men to take another picture of Sayu. "Mello," Kal said. "He says they've stopped the media from making any announcements after the inital news report on the flight." Mello slouched down in the Zebra-print couch. "Yeah, I figured. It was hard to believe that Yagami was acting totally on his own." Mello spoke to Yagami again. "Yagami, as I promised, I'm sending you images of your daughter to the PDA we gave you. If there's anything you want to ask your daughter, type it into the unit and we'll read it out to your daughter for you. That should tell you for certain that your daughter is safe and sound." Mello pressed a button on the break out box, changing the channel to the intercom in the exchange area.

"Sayu Yagami," he said. "I've got a message from your father. 'I'm on my way, so don't worry. I promise to rescue you. You seem to have your watch with you. Can you tell me what time it is now?' We allowed him to ask you this question. You're free to answer it." Sayu trembled for a moment, and then said, "I-I'm sorry dad, this is my fault. I've had this watch since I was in Japan, so the time is 2:42 AM in Japan." After a few moments, the ground and walls shook, undoubtedly from the arrival of the plan. Mello bit off another piece of chocolate. "Yagami, you can now use your own cell phone. I want you to order a helicopter with one pilot to pick up you and your daughter. And make sure to tell your friends that anything other than that helicopter comes within two miles of where you stand, both you and your daughter will be killed."

A beeping sound came through on the speaker. "What's that sound?" Mello asked, with a piece of chocolate wedged between his lips. "It's Yagami's cell phone," Kal said. Mello leaned forward to microphone again and said, "Answer it. But I want you to use the ear with ear-phone in it so we can hear the converation too." There was a loud crackle, and then Yagami answered the phone. "Yagami here," he said. A heavily censored voice came through. "It's L," he said. My head jerked over. Somehow a little hope sprang up inside me. "Your daughter and your life are top priority. I don't mind if the notebook gets into their hands. And I've sent a helicopter controlled by FBI agent McEnroe, just like the kidnappers requested." And with that, my little ember of hope was extinguished. The person was not L. He was not polite or gentle or softspoken. Mello took the chocolate bar dangling from his teeth. "Open the hatch," he said. Kal obeyed and spoke into his phone. "Y462, open the hatch." The ceiling shook slightly as the top hatch was opened. "That's the entrance, Yagami," Mello said. "Go in."

My butt was getting sore from sitting for so long, so I got up, and walked over to the Zebra-print couch. I leaned over the side dropped my hands on Mello's shoulders. I was watching the monitor closely. It was like the only interesting part of a boring movie. There was a tall man with a mask over his head overseeing the exchange. "Yagami, do you have a gun?" He asked. Yagami, a tall, squared man with glasses responded, "N-no, I couldn't get on the plane with it," Yagami said. "Then allow me," said the tall man. He pulled out a handgun and shot the glass several times. Sayu cowered down in fear. "It's bullet proof glass," the man said. "A certain syndicate used this place to make deals until a few years ago, and we've made some adjustments to it. I want you to place the notebook through here," he said, gesturing towards a wide, square hole. "As for the hole on your side, it's large enough to put both hands through it. So even if I try to take the notebook from you, you can snatch it right back. Once you place the notebook through the hole, I'm going to unlock this device. Then we both take a step back, and turn the glass door ninety degrees. Then the notebook will come to me, and the girl will go to you. There is a wall sticking out to our left that won't let the revolving door rotate any more than ninety degrees either way. Once the girl reaches your side, you can lock the door on your side. Your exit is right behind you." He pointed pointed behind himself. "As you can see, my exit is further back. By the time I get outside, you two should be on the helicopter. And if you don't accept this exchange, I will shoot the girl through here," he said, pointing his handgun at Sayu through the hole on the right.

"But, once the glass door rotates, I won't be able to shoot her. Now, this exchange should seem safe to you. If we really wanted to kill you, we could have set a bomb on your side, or have a sniper in the desert. This is all up to you, whether you trust us based on what you heard on the plane." Mello sat watching intently with a bar a chocolate between his teeth. "You've got the notebook, right?" the man asked. "Yes, I have it hidden in my suit," Yagami said. "I see, it would have been mighty stupid of you to just place it in your suitcase. Get the notebook out." Mello spoke into his phone. "Y462, start the exchange."

Yagami took the notebook out of his suit jacket. "First, I'll test the notebook. Place it through the glass panel on your left." Yagami threw a look of surprise. "Test it? You are going to kill somebody? I can't let you-" The kidnapper, getting annoyed, interrupted. "Come on, I can't just go on without making sure the notebook is real. Don't worry. The guy who's going to die is the type that Kira would kill anyway." After a few moments of Yagami's hesitation, the man was getting frustrated. "Hey! Do you want your daughter to die? After all these preparations you still don't trust us?" Yagami clenched the notebook nervously. "That's not it. Even if it's a criminal-" The man pressed his hands to the glass angrily. "You've got to be crazy. Didn't you come down here to exchange the notebook for the girl? Everything that goes on here is going to be kept a secret." Mello leaned up in his seat, getting frustrated. "You're leaving us no choice but to kill the girl," Mello said. "We don't have time, kill the gir-" Yagami suddenly jerked the notebook through the slot. "O-okay, don't kill her!" he pleaded.

"That's a good boy," the man said. "Make sure you keep a tight grip on that notebook," he said as he scribbled a name onto the notebook. And not a minute later, one of the men in the room with us, just behind Mello, cried out in pain, and collapsed. Several men cried out in shock. "What's up, Miller? Are you okay?" one said. "Wh-what's going on?" another asked, nervously. Mello only looked over his shoulder casually, a piece of chocolate in his lips. "This is what'll happen if you sell our drugs behind my back," said a man sitting adjacent to Mello. "He was always an incompetent guy. This is the first time he's proven to be useful," he explained. Kal spoke to the man through his cell phone. "Y462, the target is dead."

"Ha, looks like this notebook is real," the man said. "Let go of it, and I'll give the girl back." Yagami let it go reluctantly, and the man unlocked the glass revolving door. "Daddy!" Sayu cried as she fell into her father's arms. The man came back into the sitting room, clutching the notebook. Kal took it from him. "Boss, I'm sure you were watching, but I've done everything I was told to do," the man said. "You promised to erase all my past failures." The man who ordered the killing of Miller smirked evilly. "Sure," he said. "I'll erase them." He bobbed a head gesture at Kal, who promptly wrote something down into the notebook. The man who performed the exchange collapsed forty seconds later, as predicted. I couldn't help but feel a little intimidated about being in the same room with such a powerful weapon.

Later on, I was laying down in my bed, thinking. In the last week, my boyfriend turned out to be L, who then died. I got entangled in an elaborate blackmail scheme with the greatest mass murderer in the world, and then became romantically involved with someone who is powerful enough to control the mafia. I was so encumbered in dreaming, I didn't hear the door open and close. "Touta Matsuda," came a voice from across the room. "What?" I said, looking over. I saw Mello standing next to the door. "Touta Matsuda is the new L that the Japanese Police set up. But apparently he's just the voice, not the brain. If I could get his face, I would kill him," he said. I looked away from him. "Why do we have to kill him? We just killed two people working with us, most of the SPK, is it really neccesary?" I asked. "Morgan," Mello said. "Sometimes to catch a criminal, you have to be one," he said, licking his fingers. "And," he was now unwrapping a new bar of chocolate. "I'm working out a deal with the American president to grant us amnesty, and access to the tools we need to catch Kira and beat Near."

"Is it really all about winning?" I asked. "Really. If you forget trying to win, and focus on saving lives and dispensing justice, we'll have a lot better chance of succeeding." Mello took a bite from his chocolate bar. "That's what the cops are all about, and they haven't gotten too far," he said. "But I do admire your high sense of morality, I always did. But this isn't about right and wrong, either. Why do you think Kira kills people?" he asked. "Power," I said. "His guise of trying to destroy evil is just a weak justification." Mello smiled at me. "Exactly," he said. "There isn't real good and evil. There's just power, and those who use it for compassion, or selfish means." I sat up on the bed, and stared down at my feet. "So I guess, you and L are the kind of people who use power for compassion?" I said. "Me, possibly," he said. "But L? No. Think of this; he only used his deduction powers in cases he cared about. They were selfish intentions that just happened to do good for some innocent people. It more about winning to L than it ever was for me."

"Well, damn, that's pretty depressing," I said. "So L was doing a good thing with crappy intentions? And you're doing bad things with good intentions?" Mello bit off another piece of chocolate with a loud crack. "Pretty much. We may have killed a few people, but in the end it will be worth it. Sacrificing a few to save thousands. You can't have your cake and eat it too." I looked back up and stood up. "Have you found out anything about the Deathnote, aside from the obvious killing power?" Mello grimaced a little. "They're claiming to know nothing about how Kira could kill with just a face, but I know they know. And I will coax it out of them, mark my words," he said. "Consider them marked," I said. He then pulled me into a hungry kiss, but somehow I wasn't feeling the moment.

His hands started roaming over my body, but I just wasn't in the mood. "Do you want to?" he asked, gesturing towards the bed. I sighed. "Honestly? I'm not sure I'm in the mood." He frowned, and moved his hands. "Is it me?" he asked. "No," I said. "It's been a long day today, and I'm just feeling a little confused." Mello scratched his head, and said, "We just got done talking about this." "It's not that," I said. "It's other stuff. I think I need some rest right now. I feel...emotionally tired." He nodded, and reached for his chocolate again. "I understand," he said. "You've just been thrown through some loops, I guess." I smiled, and took him into a warm embrace. "I love you," he said. I kissed him softly and let him go. But he kept standing there like he was waiting for something.

"Forgetting something?" he said anxiously. "What?" I asked. "What did I forget?" Mello clenched a peice of chocolate between his teeth. "Three words. Starts with I," he said. I sighed again and started another locked in gaze at my feet. "I really care about you, and I like you, a lot...but this is going to take time for me," I said. "So you're just 'in like' with me? But I guess you're right," he said. He started out the door with a wounded-puppy look. I felt terrible, but I couldn't commit to that sort of emotion. It had let me down, and right now I didn't want to deal with it.


	7. Twilight

Chapter VII: Twilight

A few days after the exchange of the notebook, we had eliminated everyone that needed eliminating, and were currently planning our next move. And we had a new prescence among us; it was a shinigami named Sidoh. Kal now possesed the shinigami eyes, which could be traded for half your remaining life span. Sidoh couldn't tell us who owned the other notebook, however revealed that two rules written in the notebook were fake; One being that if you don't write down any names for thirteen days, and the other being that if the notebook was destroyed, anyone who touched it would die. They were very convenient. With the thirteen day rule, Kira could be proven innocent by not writing down names for thirteen days. And the other rule would deter others from destroying the notebook. And Mello cut a deal with Sidoh; that if Sidoh stood watch over our location, when we obtained Kira's notebook, Sidoh could have it.

Kal's eyes and Sidoh's inability to be seen by humans came in handy when we came under attack. Several soliders attempted a raid, but Sidoh pulled off their helmets and Kal killed them. After that, we moved to a new location. We were on our way to our new location, riding in a Hummer with heavily tinted windows. The boss was driving, Kal was sitting in the passeger's seat. Mello and I were in the back. "Mello, I've been thinking," I said. "Do you think it could be plausible that Kira has others carrying out the killings for him? Like, he has henchman that do the dirty work, but he is the mastermind. Perhaps he doesn't have ownership of the notebook. And who knows how many notes there are? He could have sleeper cells." Mello took a bite of chocolate. "I was thinking that myself. If so, that narrows it down some, Kira would have to be a very influential guy."

"He must be a sociopath," I said. "I'm willing to bet that Kira persuaded his helpers, rather than threatened them. They would be much more relaible without all the pressure on them." Mello smiled. "You are right there," he said. "This reminds me." Mello pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "A sheet of the deathnote. Keep this on you in case of emergency." I took it and hid it in my bra.

We arrived at our new location at around ten o' clock at night. The sun was beginning to set, and the air was frigid, it was the tenth of november. The place was a dingy apartment with a main sitting room (beginning to see a pattern here...) and a monitor room upstairs. Mello and I were in the sitting room, he was wide awake, probably on a constant sugar high from the chocolate. I was half-asleep next to him. I would have been all the way asleep if it wasn't for a nagging sense of dread I felt in my stomach. It was as though the universe was exerting pressure on us. The luckier we were, the more the universe crushed us, and I felt that our luck was about run out in a very violent implosion.

It was around midnight, and the sun was sinking away into glittering twilight, the yellows and the oranges fading into blues and purples, and to black. The stars twinkled like tiny grains of white sand upon a deep, blackened ocean. The clouds seem to reach out for us from afar, whispy hands trying to grab us and suck us into oblivion. The whole situation was sweetly silent, we were falling, and not sure when we would reach the bottom. The only thing we knew is that we hit it soon, and our collective would shatter like glass into discombulated fragments as though hitting a solid wall of concrete. We were a fleet of boats, beat upon endlessly by the ocean, about to be crushed by a tsunami.

And just one minute before midnight, when the last trace of twilight faded into nothing, we imploded. We shattered. Members all around us collapsed, clutching their chests, screaming for mercy, Mary Mother of God! They collapsed. Their life disapated and we were the only survivors. Just me, Mello, and two surviving men. Mello jumped up with the true meaning of haste. He grabbed me, one arm on me, one arm to help climb the stairs, and a bar of chocolate clenched tightly between his teeth. He barracaded us inside the monitor room. It was as though I could hear but I couldn't process. I heard shouts and gunfire outside the room, and all around us were the debris of death. My palms were sweating, my hair was standing up in end, every symptom of fear encumbered my body and consuming my senses. There was a very good chance that I was going to die right here. Mello pulled out a remote, and my stomach did a backflip. He pressed one button, and the whole building shook. I sank to my knees at the sound of the intense explosion. "Mello!" I shouted. "What on god's green earth are you doing?"

"I've blown up the two entrances," Mello said into the PA system. "You're not going to be able to get out of this place easily now. That was only a warning, but I'm going to blow up the whole building next. I can see all your movements through the monitors, so if you don't want me to press the button, do as I say." I ran over to Mello. "Don't! You'll kill yourself! Please for god's sake, Mello, don't do this." He looked at me, his face seemed calm, but his eyes were completely frantic. I am not sure whether to this day it was the frenetic energy of the situation, or I really meant it, but I shouted, "Mello, please don't! I love you!"

He grabbed my shoulders, and kissed me, agressively, with a sense of possesion. "There will be another way," he said against my lips. Stinging tears rained from my eyes. "There will be another way. I promise. If I survive, we will meet again one day," He said. And with that, he shoved me, hard across the room. I landed on the hard floor, scraping up my hands and face. "We will meet again one day, Morgan Blackthorne."

It was then, that I crept back into myself. There was nothing I could do for him. It was his own clear choice, death or glory. Glory wasn't an option anymore, so he had chosen death. "First order, I want all of you to smash the cameras on your helmets," Mello said into the PA. "Throw all your weapons over the railing. One of you hold the notebook, the rest of you back away." Mello took a chunk of chocolate into his mouth. "Good, walk over to the door with the notebook. Take your helmet off," he said. He then cackled a little. He was very good at faking confidence. "You again, Yagami! Maybe I SHOULD have killed you. But it's certainly interesting that we're exchanging the notebook once again. At a time like this, it's easier for me to deal with strait-laced guys like you. Don't worry. I haven't got any tricks up my sleeve this time either. I won't let go of the detonation switch, but I won't have a gun with me. And I'll also have my hands up, you can check as you come into the room, so you have anything to worry about."

"The only things you can bring inside are the notebook and the mask. Come in." Mello hit a button on the control panel, opening the door. Yagami stood in the light like an aged monument in the dawn's light. The door quckly shut behind him. "Bring the notebook and the mask to me. I'm going to use you as my hostage again." But Yagami did not move, but looked as though he was reading something. "M-i-h-a-el, K-e-e-h-l," he said. "Your real name is Mihael Keehl." I burst out of myself in a panicked scream. Yagami turned around, and looked at me. "There's a young woman in here too," he said. "M-o-r-g-a-n, B-l-a-c-k-t-h-o-r-n-e. Morgan Blackthorne. She's unarmed, and injured." Yagami turned back to Mello. "If I write your name down in this book, you'll die. Drop that switch, and both of you raise your hands." And then I remembered. I began to reach into my bra, but Mello gestured a "no" at me. I couldn't panic or ask why not.

"Now! Drop that switch!" Yagami said. He flipped open the notebook. "You can't threaten me," Mello said. "If you try to write my name down, I'll press the button." Yagami stared him down, bold faced. "Do it, then," he said. "I'm prepared to lose my life. I'd happily give up my own life if it means that you'd die as well." It was apparent now, that Mello was grasping at straws and working with nothing. He wanted to save his life and win all at the same time. "Stop trying to be a hero, Yagami. You might be satisfied with that, but what about your men? You're going to sacrifice them too." Yagami's eyes clenched tighter. "They're my men, they're all prepared to face death. I don't know how large that explosion of your is going to be, but if there are going to be any survivors, my fully equipped men have the best chance. If I hold on to the notebook, it shouldn't get damaged beyond use. To tell you the truth, we just want you and the notebook to disappear. Give it up, Mello, the only way you'll through this is to surrender and drop that switch."

"Yagami," Mello said, as he took a bite of chocolate. "You've never killed anyone before, have you?" Mello opened a drawer, and in it, I saw the silvery glint of a handgun. "Don't move!" Yagami shouted. "I only have to write down your last name. It'll take less than a second." Mello looked apologetically at him. "I'm sorry, Yagami. You should have just written my name down without hesitation. But now that I've noticed it, you're not going to get that chance, anymore." He was looking at handgun, just a few inches from me. I knew what he wanted me to do. And I did it without hesitation. Normally, I wouldn't have done it so quickly, but I had to save my own life and Mello's. I opened fire on Yagami. It was only maybe a second, but it felt like an eternity. I screamed as I cut down Soichiro Yagami. He was brave, and admirable, but he was on the wrong side. And he had to die. "Get the notebook, Morgan!" Mello shouted, grabbing a gas mask and putting it on his face. It seemed like, maybe in that moment Mello and I would get away, and not have to meet again someday.

I grabbed the notebook. I was clutching the single greatest murder weapon in mankind's history. I had to protect and respect its power, and keep it in safe hands. But the door burst open, and the most vivid thing I remember were bullets flying at me, hitting me in the shoulder and arm, the blinding pain, the fall to the ground. I lay in a pool of my own blood. "It's all over, Mello, drop that switch!" said one of the men. My blood began to seep into the pages of the deathnote. "...You can't have your cake and eat it to..." I managed to choke out. And on that final note, Mello hit the switch. There was flash, but I can't remember any sound. I remember the pain, the heat. I remember opening my eyes, and I could see blood all around me, smoke, dust. But Mello was gone. He left me. He left me behind in a storm of violence, pain, and defeat.

They brought me to the hospital. I barely remember it, I was so far gone. I had lost a lot of blood. After a two-week stay in the hospital, I was arrested. Soichiro Yagami did not survive. I arrested for murder, for being Mello's willing accomplice, and then Raito's plan he needed me alive for; I was also arrested for aiding Kira in the murder of L. He used my shoes and Misa's witness testimony. I was locked up secretly, and they wouldn't indict me until they caught Kira.

I remember, as they were dragging my almost lifeless body into a car, Mogi said to me, "It's a shame your friend ran away on you. I thought you were a nice girl, but you're going to jail for a long, long time. You killed Director Yagami, and assisted in the murder of countless others. You're about as evil as Kira." Evil. I was evil. I thought I was doing the right thing, but at that moment I believed Mogi was right.

Mihael Keehl left me alone in that building, bleeding to death. I felt betrayed on the worst level. But we were going to the same hell, and it didn't matter anymore. My life was over. Nobody was left to save me, and I was incapable of saving myself. I rot, lonesome in my prison cell, a battered, sinking boat, on a cruel, rough ocean, all alone.


	8. Transcend

Chapter VIII: Transcend

I spent the next three weeks in a cell under constant surveillance. It had a mattress, and a toilet, and that was it. I was only give a meager amount of food each day. My hands were constantly bound behind my back. I was constantly hungry, every part of me was sore. I was given no books, a television, or anything to pass the time. They had stripped me of my humanity. I was questioned for hours at a time, but I refused to tell them anything. The only thing I said was yes, the shoes were mine, no I didn't help kill L, and me shooting Yagami was self-defense.

However, one day, just before Christmas, they informed me I was temporarily being transferred to New York to be questioned by the SPK. I was sedated the whole trip, transported by private jet. I awoke, my hands and ankles bound. I opened my eyes, and there, sitting before me was Near, in a pile of toys. He has started making a city out of dice. "You're awake," he observed. "I imagine you're very hungry." I bit my lip. "Yes," I trembled. "They don't give me much to eat." Near kept stacking dice at the same pace, not taking his eyes off of them. "I imagine not. They believe you helped Kira kill L, because you were with him right before he died. Is this true?" All I could think about was food. I was ravenously hungry, my human instincts were consuming me. "Yes," I said. "But I didn't hurt him in anyway, he was my boyfriend, and I came to Japan to see him. The only thing we did was make love." Near scoffed. "Ew. On a roof?" I pulled at my ankles chain. "Yes. Can I have something to eat? Please?"

"Soon enough," he said. "You shot Soichiro Yagami several times, including a fatal shot to the neck. Correct?" I sank my head. "Yes, but he was going to write Mello's name down in the deathnote. Yagami was a brave man, I admired him, but I couldn't let him kill Mello." Near smiled coyly. "I see. But let me tell you something, Morgan. Mello might own your heart, and L might own your soul, but I will own your mind. It's only fair, I think." I looked up at him, still concentrating on his dice. "What?" I said. "I'm L's successor, therefore I should get everything he had. I'm confident that one day, you will fall in love with me like you did with L. I am everything L was," he said. "Aren't you a little young for me?" I said. "I only look small because I'm usually sitting down. I'm almost Mello's age, and he isn't too young for you, apparently."

"Now," Near continued. "You seem pretty much unarmed, so you can have restraints removed." I felt the chains moving, loosening, and falling from my wrists. A tall, blonde woman walked out from behind me. She came around to my leg, and unlocked the chain from my ankle. I moved my arms, my face clenching in pain. My body was racked with pain. My arms were stiff and sore. I placed my hands in my lap for the first in weeks. I felt weak and beaten. Near pushed a plate of sandwiches towards me. I immediately forgot the pain and engulfed my mouth with food. It tasted so good to me, even though I didn't know what kind they were or what they actually tasted like. After inhaling every crumb of food on the plate, I started to feel more alive and awake.

"I'm going to have you placed in a maximum security facility," Near said. "I think you'll find that much better." He signaled to the woman, and a man also started coming towards me. "Lidner and Gevanni will take care of you," he said. Gevanni, the man, cuffed my hands in front of my body. They placed a blindfold on my eyes, and grasped my arms, and started leading me out the door. It was refreshing to feel the air outside, even if it was just a fleeting moment. And then I heard the sound of an engine.

I fell to the ground. There were shouts, the sound of a small explosion. Then I felt hands on my shoulders, pulling me into something- a car. It smelled of fine leather upholstery. The door shut and I was thrown on to the floor from the sudden velocity of the car speeding off. I pulled off my blindfold. I knew this car. I crawled back up on the seat. "Fancy meeting you here," Matt said, a cigarette perched in his lips. "Buckle up, Mello wants his package delivered in one piece." At first, I felt relieved and ecstatic to be out of prison. And then I remembered that the only reason I was in jail in the first place was because he left me. He left me. "I'm not sure I'm interested in seeing him," I said. "He kinda left me to be arrested." Matt took a long drag of his fag. "Weren't you shot?" he asked. "Yeah," I said. "I almost bled to death."

"Exactly," Matt said. "Thanks to him, you only almost bled to death. Think of this; if he had taken you too, there'd be nothing anyone could do for you. He didn't escape unscathed either." I helped myself to one of Matt's cigarettes. I struggled lighting it with my bound hands. "Is there any way to get these cuffs off?" I asked. Matt tossed his faintly glowing butt out the window. "I got something for that. We'll get those off when we get there." Matt turned off onto an exit towards a Motel. He pulled into the parking lot of it and parked his car in a spot right near a row of rooms. He handed me a jacket. "Put that over your hands to hide the cuffs. Let's go," he said. I stepped out of the car into the frigid December air. I started shivering uncontrollably. We headed up a case of concrete stairs, and to a dirty, beaten door. Matt knocked on it firmly. "Special delivery," he said jokingly. The locked clicked, and the door creaked upon slowly.

His face. Mello's face bore a large scar over his left eye, eating up nearly half his face, and part of his neck. His once neatly combed blonde hair was butchered and messy. I stared at him, taking it in. "Mihael," I said quietly, barely able to look at this war-torn state. "Yeah.." Matt said. "I guess that's my cue to exit...eh..seeya." Matt turned away, and started down for his car. I stepped inside the room, into the silence. The jacket fell off my hands, revealing my still cuffed wrists. Without a word, he picked up a hairpin from the table right next to the ugly motel couch. He started picking the lock on the cuffs, gently grasping my hands. My senses seemed to celebrate with the return of his touch. The cold metal fell from my hands and dropped to the floor with a metal clang. "Don't stop," I begged.

His hands slid onto my waist, his thumbs gently grazing my skin. My own hands clutched at his shoulders. Five weeks. Five weeks away from this. It felt more like five lifetimes. It felt as though I had died five times just to get to that moment. Warm lips found my own, sending my mind into a frenzy of feelings. My fingers tingled, my lips burned, and my whole body seemed to tremble. The long kiss ended with his teeth lightly nibbling my lip. I took a sharp breath, and asked, "Is this real?" Mello pressed his body against mine, and whispered into my ear, "I sure hope so." I had to ask because the whole experience seemed to transcend reality. We leaned back onto the bed, and I took in the heat of his body on mine, the weight. I grasped the sides of his head with my hands, pulling in for another smoldering kiss. His hands rubbed my shoulders intensely, and it felt so good. I moaned slightly as he started kissing my neck, with one of his hands tugging gently at my hair.

His other hand grasped the white t-shirt I had on, pulling it over my head. He tossed onto the floor, and I went to work on his shirt, pulling of and adding it to the pile. He started kissing down my neck, to my collar bone, all the down to my stomach. He pulled off the black sweatpants I was wearing, and then my underwear, tossing them away with the other articles clothing. I felt his hands on my thighs, gently parting them. He was right over me, one hand on the bed holding himself up, the other undoing his own pants. He leaned back down on me, positioning himself. I let out a shaky breath as I felt him enter me. He moved gently in and out, with his lips locked on mine. He started picking up the pace, making me pant and curl my toes. One hand was on the mattress, the other gently holding my neck. I dug my nails into his scalp and neck, increasing in intensity as he went faster. He started to groan loudly as he got closer to his climax.

I begged for more. Faster. Harder. Deeper. And he was more than happy to oblige. Soon I was barely able to breathe, also very close. He climaxed inside of me, still going until I too reached my peak. We collapsed into the covers, lying close together. "What will happen to us when we catch Kira?" Mello said thoughtfully, petting my hair. "I wanna go back to London, maybe in the countryside," I said. "We can have our own little place. Our own little corner." He gently kissed me, his arm around me, and we drifted asleep. I finally was able to dream again, in safe hands.

END OF PART 1


	9. Lucid Reverie

Blood and Sugar

PART 2

Chapter IX: Lucid Reverie

I was on a beach. The sand was white and pure, it was smooth and cool beneath my feet. The water before me was grey, reflecting the clouds above me. There was silence all around me, except the lapping of endless ocean. I saw him in the distance. He was standing there. In his slouched posture, turned away from me. His messy black hair waved loosely in the wind. I started walking towards him. The journey seemed to go on for hours, the distance appeared endless. Up above me, I saw a myriad of dark coloured birds flying over me. Every sound they made seemed sharp and loud in my ears. I was finally within three feet of him. "Hey," I called out. "I was wondering when I would see you again."

Hide tide had come. Water was now lapping at our bare feet. It was cool on my toes, soothing the heat from friction from sand. "We've never met before," he said quietly. I scratched my head, and kicked a bit of sand. "Of course we have. Don't you remember?" I asked. I felt cold drops hit my face and shoulders. It began to rain, soaking us, forming delicate puddles in the sand. A single drop of blood fell into one of the puddles. It landed with an immense crash in my ears, it blinded me, made my senses explode in white hot agony.

My eyes opened to startling darkness. I was under a blanket, naked. I looked around...and I realized it was just a dream. All I could hear was the soft breathing of the young man in bed beside me. I reached down beside me, and grabbed my underthings, and slipped them on. I lumbered out of bed, dizzy and drowsy. I slowly ambled to the bathroom. I grabbed a glass from the counter, and filled it with water. I forced my eyes open, feeling them struggle with the light. And in the mirror...I saw him. My hands went numb out of pure shock; the glass slipped from my fingers and landed with a loud shatter on the floor. I heard a grunt from Mello, and my eyes left the mirror for one second. He didn't wake. My eyes moved back to the mirror. The figure had disappeared. I decided that it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. I shuffled back to bed, and lay down on my back and closed my eyes. "Go to sleep," I whispered to myself.

I rolled over on to my side, unable to shut down, my mind was awake and racking. I peaked my eyes open some, looking over the sleeping mass of man beside me to the window. The tiniest baby ray of daylight was beginning to poke through. I shut my eyes again, willing myself to go back to sleep. But for the next two hours, I couldn't, because I would fingers on my skin. Breath on my hair. Sometimes..I swear..I could even hear a click of a camera. I would look over, and there would only be darkness, the only breaking the shivering silence was Mello's soft breaths. But there seemed to be an invisible energy that quickened as it came closer, and enveloped me in unfamiliarity and trepidation. It seemed to take on human form, taunting me. It took on the form of my dead boyfriend, Laure Lawliet, or as others knew him, L.

Finally morning light began to trickle into the room, bright and intensified with the fresh fallen snow outside. My eyes ached for sleep and my body yearned for rest, but my mind was too far awakened. I lay on my back, watching the dust particles float down, illuminated by the ever-sharpening daylight, weaving out from night time clouds that still partially eclisped the sun. My eyes were distracted by the stirring of Mello beside me. He opened his eyes, lifting himself from the bed, stiff and corpse-like. I was drawn to the sight of him stretching out, the sunlight glowing around him. It seemed to make him shine somehow. Like a golden colossus.

I too rose from bed as Mello retreated into the bathroom. I turned on the lights, flooding every dark corner with light. I yawned and stretched as Mello appeared from beyond the toilet. "Did you drop a glass last night? I thought I heard something breaking last night," he asked. "Yeah," I said. "I had weird dream, I got up for some water, and I thought I saw something in the mirror, and kinda freaked out." Mello reached over for his shirt. "Oh," he said plainly. He reached into a duffel bag and pulled out some clothes, neatly folded. "Put these on," he said. "I had Matt get you some new threads, seeing as we burned all the other clothes you had." I took the clothes from him. I slipped on a black long-sleeved shirt, and black pants. I put on a red jacket over it, and put on the shiny black boots.

"We have a flight to catch," Mello said. "We're going back to Japan. I have a plan that will be the ultimate method of catching Kira. It will be executed on New Year's Eve, so we have to move fast." He grabbed a chocolate bar from his bag. He unwrapped it thoughtfully, and took a bite. He then reached into his bag and handed me a small, black flip phone, and a pair of sunglasses. "That phone has Matt's and my numbers." He reached down again, zipping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. I pocketed the phone and slid the shades onto my face. "Mello," I began. "I thought you might want to know. Near says he's going to own my mind or something. He says he deserves everything that L had and according to him, that includes me." Mello turned to me, and then smirked nervously. "Near is trying to fuck with our heads. He's an asshole like that. He doesn't care about you at all," he said. He turned back to the door, and opened it. "I'm not worried about it," I said. "I find Near creepy, if anything. Plus, he's what? Fifteen? Sixteen at most?" Mello scoffed. "He's fifteen. I'm nineteen."

We left the dirty motel, into the parking lot, where Matt was waiting by his car. Mello got in the driver's seat, Matt in the passenger seat, and I just huddled up in the back. I was silent most of the way to the airport. I had lied about not being interested in Near. Just the fact that he was forbidden made him interesting. Some how I could not stop picturing what it would be like to kiss him. It felt wrong and alluring all at once. Once arriving at the airport, Mello and I boarded a commercial flight to Tokyo; Matt was going take a private plane so he could bring his precious car with him.

It was around 3 o'clock AM in Tokyo when arrived. Mello lead me to the parking garage. He stopped by a large, black motorcycle. He grabbed the two helmets hanging off its handle bars and tossed one to me. "Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle before?" he asked. "No," I said. "Well, just get on behind me and wrap your arms around my waist and hold on, okay?" he said. I nodded, and put the bulky helmet on. I nervously got on the back seat of the cycle, and wrapped my arms around his waist like he told me to. The bike started up with startling roar, and as it started moving, locked Mello in a death grip. Exiting the parking garage, the cold wind whipped me, raising goosebumps on my skin. After a fifteen minute trip, we pulled into another parking garage. My legs felt shaky after riding on the bike, almost as though they were made of gelatin. I nearly fell as I started walking, but Mello caught me. "Wow, you really hadn't ridden a motorcycle before," he said as he helped me get my land feet back. I pulled off my helmet, and hung it on the handlebars with his.

We arrived at an apartment. It was very dirty, and in general disrepair, but as fair as Mello was concerned, if it had power and running water it was good enough. He set his bag down by a dirty old couch in front of a coffee table. He pulled out his laptop, and plugged it in. He unwrapped a fresh bar of chocolate, and bit into it. I just stood there, watching him. But still my thoughts kept straying back to that albino pain in the ass. I had to bite my lip to suppress a smile. Mello looked up at me, with a concerned face. "Are you alright?" he asked. I pounced into his lap and delivered a heaving kiss. I savoured the taste of fresh chocolate on his tongue. I grasped at his thigh and dug into his hair, kissing him hard and possessive, until I started feeling heat arising in his pants, and I could feel a lump swelling. I broke the kiss, and got off his lap.

"...Not that that wasn't pleasant, but are you okay?" he asked. "Yeah," I said quickly. "I think I'm going to get some air. I'll be on the balcony." As I started for the sliding door, Mello quipped at me, "Tease." I smirked and quipped back, "Pervert." I stepped out and shut the door behind me. After a few seconds, my phone started ringing. It was from a restricted number. "Hello..?" I answered nervously. "Morgan. Are you alone?" I recognized it as Near's voice. "Not really. Are you gonna come after me?" I asked. "No," he said. "The only reason you got away is because I made it so." I looked back over my shoulder, Mello was peering at me curiously. "Look, I gotta go, thanks for busting me out but..." I said persistently. "Okay, okay," Near said. "I just want to let you know, I'm coming to Japan tomorrow. Come to room 157 at the Teito Hotel at eleven forty-seven PM. It will be just me. Promise." I looked back at Mello, whose look was getting more curious. "Okay, sure, bye." I hung up without giving Near a chance to respond.

I stepped back into the apartment, putting the phone back in my pocket. "Who was that?" Mello asked. "Wrong number," I lied automatically. "It was a real bozo." I could tell by his face that Mello didn't believe me completely. "I have some business to take care of," he said. "We've been watching Misa Amane. I have some cameras set up around her house, but she's just left. I'm going to install a listening device in her house. I need you watch the screen and let me know if she comes back while I'm still in the house, okay?" I scratched my head. "Sure," I said. He got up and started for the door. I took his place on the couch, and gave the screen a good eyeball. There were four different angles around Misa's house.

The secret installation went off without a hitch, Mello was in and out fifteen minutes before Misa came back, hanging off Mogi's arm. I curled up on the couch, waiting for Mello to get back, and fell asleep.


	10. Commit

Chapter X: Commit

It was the day that I was supposed to meet with Near. Mello was very distracted with watching Misa's movements. He had the same suspicion as I did; that Misa, was at least at some point, the second Kira. But it was unlikely that she was anymore, based on the fact that it was pretty much impossible for the killing to continue with under all the survellience, and her not behave suspiciously at all. Therefore, Kira's dirty work was probably being carried out by a new stooge.

I left the apartment at around eleven-thirty. I told Mello I was just getting something to eat. I walked to the hotel, as it was only a block away. Still, the trip there felt immensely longer, because it was very cold outside. I almost slipped and fell three times on the layer of ice encrusting the sidewalk. I arrived at the hotel, glad I escaped the freezing cold into the welcoming warmth. All around were Christmas decorations and generally high-spirited people. I made my way out of the lobby and down into the hallway of rooms. I felt anxious, not knowing if Near would actually hold up to his promise and not set me up on some sort of trap. I reached room 157, and I stared down the door for a moment. Somehow I really wished I had x-ray vision, or some kind of divination power to know what would happen next.

I knocked on the door softly. I heard shuffling from inside, and the door swung open. I was surprised to see Near actually standing up. He was pretty short, only a hair above my height. "You're three minutes late," he said. "I thought you weren't going to show up." I followed him into the room, and shut the door behind me. I inspected the room thoroughly, and indeed, no one else was there. "I keep my promises," Near said. "But Lidner and Gevanni are right nearby. I have a distress button I can push." I looked over at where he was sitting. He was sitting against the window, with a pile of toys beside him. In front of him was a small table with a tray of roasted chicken and a bottle of chianti. I was pretty confused at this point. "This is pretty extravagant," I said. Near picked up a toy rocket, and started fiddling with it. "This is our first date, I want you to enjoy it," he said.

"Date?" I asked. "You failed to mention that." Near set his toy down and picked up a pack of tarot cards. "If I did, then I doubt you would have come," he said. I shrugged and sat down on the other end of the table. I poured myself some of the wine and sipped it thoughtfully. "So, it is your intention to seduce me then?" I asked. "Yes," Near said. "But keep in mind, I will never physically force myself on you, so you can trust me." I set my glass down. "Well isn't that thoughtful of you," I said sarcastically. "It won't be neccesary," Near said. "I will break you down and you will fall for me. You will grow curious. You'll wonder what it feels like. What it tastes like." I eyeballed him suspiciously. "You're a real creeper, Near," I said. I picked up my glass again and took another sip. It was sweetly bitter on my tongue. "There's something I need you to do for me," he said. I plucked a piece of meat from the chicken with my fingers. "I probably won't be interested," I said. Near set his cards down and for the first time, looked straight at me. "On the 28th of January, I've set up a little meeting with the SPK and Japanese taskforce. I want you to come. I'll call you when I've verified the location and time," he said. I polished off my glass and set it down. "Fine," I said. "I'll attend your little meeting."

Near smiled childishly. "Come here," he said. "Let me read your palm." I got up and sat next to him as directed. It was strange being right next to him. He grabbed my hand, and I shuddered slightly. His hands were cold and smooth on my skin. I felt almost a little afraid as those pale blue eyes stared at my hand. "Your lifeline is strong," he said. "I didn't see you as one to believe in tha-MMMNN." Sneak attack! He was on my lap, his hands were on my neck. He was kissing me. His lips were cold and dry, but seemed move with a mesmerizing motion. His mouth seemed to persuade mine to open. His tongue slid into my mouth, and it didn't seem to have a taste. And then my brain started working.

I pushed him off me. "What are you doing, jackass?" I yelled. "You have soft lips," he said. "And I'm not a jackass." I got up, and straightened my jacket. "Jackass," I insisted. "Why are you so upset? Is Mello your boyfriend, and you don't want to cheat?" he asked. "We haven't really talked about it," I said. "It doesn't matter anyway, because I don't like you, Near." Near once again smiled childishly. "Then why did you kiss me back, Morgan?" he asked. "I didn't, jackass," I said. "Three second rule," he insisted. "Plus, I felt tongue. That was a legitimate kiss and you know it." I started for the door. "Whatever, Near. I have to go," I said. "You're only saying that because you feel awkward," he said. "And you don't want to deal with it." I opened the door and turned back to Near. "Fuck you," I said spitefully, and left.

When I got back to the apartment at around half past midnight, I found Mello staring intently at the computer screen, headphones over his ears. I approached him, without a sound, just watching the glow of the screen on his face, his weary eyes not leaving it for even a moment. I reached out my hand, and touched his shoulder softly. He still didn't look away. I sat down beside him and slowly pulled the headphones from his ears. "Come to bed," I said. "Misa is asleep. You need to sleep for a few hours. You're going to kill yourself at this rate." I wrapped my arms around him, and kissed his face. "I love you, Mihael," I said softly. "Don't you ever leave me alone." I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he pulled me close to him. "I don't think I could ever survive without you," I said. He kissed my hair softly. "You know this will always belong to you," he said softly, taking my hand and placing it to his chest. I could feel the warmth on my fingertips, the rythym of his heart under my hand.

I kissed him, slow and hot, burning. I ran my hands through his blonde hair, petting it softly. My lips tingled with pleasure, and my cheeks felt hot with feeling of tears sliding down. He broke the kiss for a moment. "What's wrong?" asked me softly. "Nothing," I said. "I just never thought I could feel this way about anyone else after...you know." He pulled me into another burning kiss, caressing my neck and hair. After a moment, we got up, and headed for the bedroom, and shut the door behind us.

I woke up Christmas morning to the ringing of my cell phone. I reached over the side of the bed and picked it up. Once again, restricted number. I answered, "Hullo?" I was drowsy and fog-minded. "Morgan," I recognized the voice as Near's. "It is my understanding that a good person is supposed to call after a first date." I immediately felt as though a brick dropped in my stomach. "That wasn't a date," I said. "Whatever you say," Near said. "Were you at least thinking about me?" I rolled over in bed and saw the clock said seven o'clock AM. Mello was already up. "No," I said. "I came home and made love to the person I love. Which last I checked, isn't you." Near laughed lightly. "Are you sure I didn't cross your mind when you kissed him? Are you sure you didn't look back just once when you licked his skin?" he said in a strange, sultry voice. I shuddered, creeped out...but somehow intrigued. "Are you sure you felt nothing for me...when you felt him inside you?"

"You are disgusting, and you have no shame," I said, getting angry. "I need no shame," Near said. "And I hope you've been using condoms, because I don't find it believeable you had any access to birth control while you were in prison, and after you left." I bit my lip nervously. It had occured to me once or twice, but I had been distracted. "Of course," I said weakly. "Your stunned silence and weakly voiced reply isn't all that reassuring," Near said. "Seeing as you two have a knack for danger, I would give the baby to Whammy's house." I clenched the blanket in my hand. "I am not pregnant, Near," I said. "Whatever you say," Near said. "I have to get going. I'll talk to you later." I hung up, and got out of bed and got dressed.

I walked out into the living room, and saw Mello once again watching Misa's house on his computer. "Happy Christmas," I said. He looked up and smiled slightly. "Is it Christmas?" he said. "I hadn't noticed." I walked over to the couch and sat down beside him. "Mihael," I began. "There's something I need to talk to you about." I placed his hand on my knee. "I have something for you. I-I'm kind of unprepared...but um..." he reached his hand into his pocket. "I want to do this right," he said. He slid down onto one knee. I knew what as coming. And I couldn't breathe waiting for it. "Marry me."

-END OF ACT II-


	11. Jollity

--Act III--

Chapter XI: Jollity

"O-okay," I stammered. I couldn't help but to smile nervously, as he slid a very old looking ring onto my finger.

"This was my great-grandmother's," he said. "The only thing I ever got from my family, except a big custody battle which landed me into foster care and then to Whammy's house."

The ring was small, but very elegant. It was gold, with a brown diamond in the center and tiny clear diamonds surrounding it.

"It's perfect," I said quietly. "My family wasn't exactly all that functional either. I didn't see much of my parents. I was basically raised by my brother Mitchell. He had a treehouse in our backyard that he would take me to when my mom went crazy from her bipolar."

"Mitchell Blackthorne?" Mello said. "Was he a social worker by any chance? I've heard that name before."

I scratched my head.

"Yes, but he was accused of molesting one of the kids. But it wasn't true...but Kira seemed to..think it was."

I bit my lip. Bitter memories leaked into my mind. He was so close to being aquitted. And then, I got the call from my mother, telling me that my thirty year-old healthy brother died of cardiac arrest. "Anyway," I said. "There's something really important I have to tell you."

I gnawed my finger nervously.

"You're trembling," he said.

My heart raced, the moment seemed to take the breath from chest. I looked at my feet. "...Mihael," I started. "I think I might be pregnant."

Silence. No yelling, no panicking, nothing. Just silence.

"Please say something," I begged. "Yell at me. Something."

He just stared into oblivion, in total shock, or something. I didn't know what he was thinking.

"You're not going to leave me, are you?" I asked.

I bit hard into my knuckle.

"...No," he said finally. "But are you sure?"

I released my finger from my teeth.

"No," I said. "I guess I'll need a test or something. But...what are we going to do?"

He reached for a chocolate bar.

"Not worry about it," he said. "If it's true, then it's wonderful. Scary, I guess. But it's a miracle." He started unwrapping his chocolate bar.

I walked back into the bedroom, still shaking a little, but relieved. I swtiched on the dusty old TV. It appeared to be a news program, the anchor was a woman around twenty-three or so. She was Japanese, fairly tall with short hair. Her name was Takada Kiyomi, but that was all I could pick up in the Japanese.

Six days later, I got a call from Near. Mello was out in person watching Misa, and I was inside the aparment watching the computer. Mello stuck out like a sore thumb with the black leather coture and facial scar, but somehow he still managed not to attract attention, and remained

unnoticed to Misa or anyone. My cell phone rang, and I saw that it was a restricted number.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Morgan," Near said. "I have a little secret to tell you, but you have to promise not to tell Mello."

"Fine," I said spitefully. "What is it?"

"Misa Amane won't be appearing in the New Year's show tonight," he said.

"Oh?" I said sarcastically, "And why ever not, praytell?"

"Just the word on the street," he said halfheartedly. I could imagine that he had a childish grin on his face.

"Near," I started, frustrated. "If you're going to lie, put some effort into it. Please."

"It would be wasted effort," Near said. "You could see right through it if you wanted to."

"Not necessarily," I said, unsurely. "I managed to get myself in a fix with Kira. I had a plan and it backfired."

"Speaking of Kira," he said, in a sneaky manner. "I don't buy your story that you don't know Kira's name. That's bullshit, and you and I know it."

I bit my lip nervously. I had to go about this carefully. "I suppose you already know who Kira is?" I said.

"Yes," he said. "Raito Yagami, right?"

"Yes," I said. "That man, is the devil. Pure evil."

"Did L know or suspect him?" he asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "He didn't say anything about it. He was really depressed and losing it."

"Really?" Near said, surprised. "I could never picture L as the type to break down emotionally."

"He was human, Near. He may not show his weaknesses but they were there," I said.

"Wow," Near said. "He must have really loved you to let you see his weaknesses."

There was silence for a moment. I was staring down at my feet, loosely holding the phone to my ear.

"Do you miss him?" he asked.

"You really want to know? Yes. I miss him more and more each day. I gave all my love and six years of my life to him, and now it's all gone."

Near remained silent for a moment, and then said quietly, "I'm sorry."

For the first time, I heard something that sounded like sympathy come from his mouth.

"Thanks," I said quietly.

"For the record," Near said. "I am monitoring all of your phone lines. I have access to your provider, so I'll know exactly what you, Mello and Matt are doing. I'll know if you tell Mello what's going to happen tonight."

"You're bluffing," I said with suspicion. "You're trying to trick me to come outside."

"I think it's real cute how you call him Mihael," Near said meanly. "In that sweet little soft voice of yours. I'd love to hear you say my name like that. And then, you would bite your soft little lip and stare innocently at your feet, right? And your pretty curly hair would fall over your face, so delicately."

I felt my stomach churning with fear, and a little excitement.

"Jackass," I said angrily.

"I love it when you call me that," he said seductively. "It really turns me on."

"Stop messing with my head," I said, almost shouting. "Leave me alone."

"And yet," He said coldly. "You always answer the phone when I call."

"Fuck you," I said, and hung up the phone.

I knew I had to tell Mello, but he was four blocks away, it was freezing cold outside and I didn't have a vehicle. Plus, that's what Near was expecting, and he would probably have eyes on the street. I didn't understand why he told me what he was planning. But it was important that the information got to Mello. After thinking for a moment, I finally got an idea. I picked up my phone and dialed Matt's number.

"What's up, Chica?" he answered.

"Matt," I said. I had to act natural. "There's this video game I want you to see. It's awesome."

"I really can't right now, I really want to but Mello would kill me if he knew I left my post," he said.

"It's only for a minute," I said. "Please?"

"Fine," Matt gave in. "It better be good."

A few minutes later, the redheaded gamer and lover of all things striped bounded through the door.

"Where is it?" he said. "It better awesome."

"It's over here," I said, but gesturing for him to come sit on the couch. I lip spoke, "play along."

He sat down next to me. I took a sheet of paper and wrote, 'Phones are being monitored, the place might be bugged, maybe even your car.'

"That's an awful lot of polygons," he said. "I'm surprised the system can handle it."

He wrote below my words, 'Unlikely about my car, I check it thoroughly for that sort of thing every time I get in.'

"I told you it was awesome," I said. "You try."

I took the pen and wrote, 'I need to get to Mello right now. Near is planning something.'

"Why don't we take this show on the road," Matt said. "And go to my place?"

"Sure," I said. "Just let me grab my bag."

I reached for knapsack lying abandoned on the ground. I placed my phone, a handgun, and a voice recorder and personal sound amplifier. We headed out to his car, and as soon I was in, Matt began grilling me.

"What is Near going to do?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure it involves Misa Amane. He knows we've been watching her, and her bodyguards," I said.

"Fuck man," he said. "That Near is a real pain in the ass."

"Tell me about it," I said, annoyed at the very thought of Near.

Matt started up the car and headed for Mello's location. Finally I spotted him, standing at a corner, with a chocolate bar and in his hand, his sunglasses concealing the fact he was spying on Misa, just a few feet away.

"I can't get out of the car," I said.

"Why?" he asked.

"I can't let Misa see me," I said. "I was supposed to disappear. If I let her see me she could report right back to Kira."

"I thought she wasn't the second Kira anymore," Matt said, confused.

"But she still might know Kira, without realizing he's Kira," I explained.

"Ah," Matt said. "So how do we get his attention?"

"I have an idea," I said. "Don't laugh, okay?"

I cracked the window slightly and put on my shades.

"Ey, blondie over there," I shouted. "With the chocolate. You lookin' for a good time?"

Mello turned his attention to the car, recognizing it, but a little bit confused. He approached the car, and when he was within earshot, and when I was within earshot, I whispered, "It's me. Play along."

"Fuck off pervert," he said loudly. He then dipped his head and whispered, "What are you doing?"

"Near is going to make a move on Amane," I whispered. "Honey, let's go get a room and you can show me what you have under that leather," I said loudly.

"Why couldn't you just call me?" Mello whispered. "Not interested, crazy bitch," he shouted.

"Near is monitoring our phones, and has possibly bugged our locations. I didn't want to take any chances," I whispered quickly. "Baby, don't be like that. I got cash," I shouted.

"I am not a fucking hooker, wench," he yelled. "How do you know?" he asked quietly.

"Near called me, which is a good indication he access to our provider. And he told me he was monitoring our phones," I hissed. "Oh come on, goldy-locks, come for a ride," I said loudly in my imitation of a sleaze.

"Bitch, I am going to kick your ass if you don't fuck off," he shouted. "Well shit, what are we going to do?" he whispered.

"Just act natural, act like you don't know anything. I gotta go, the police are eyeballing me. I'll talk to you later. Love you," I whispered quickly. "Fine, but you're missing out, I do stuff Japanese girls think is gross!" I shouted. Matt snickered as we pulled away.

"Were you a pimp in a past life?" he asked.

As we were driving back towards the apartment, I spotted someone entering a hotel. It was Lidner, one of Near's henchmen.

"Sloppy, Near," I said. "You knew I would spot her. Pull over, Matt."

As soon as Matt parked the car, I hopped out with my knapsack. I told him I would be right back, and headed into the hotel. I stayed cognito, watching Lidner from afar. But to my surprise, she was accompanying Kiyomi Takada. I was a little confused, and watched where they were going. And then to my horror, Raito Yagami walked in the door.

He didn't notice me as he walked by, but instead, took Takada by the waist and headed into a corridor of rooms. Lidner stayed in the lobby, watching them walk away. I took my chance of not being seen by Lidner and bolted out the door. I ran to Matt's car, and jumped in.

"Where's the fire?" he asked.

"Raito Yagami," I sputtered. "And Kiyomi Takada. In the hotel. Lidner is tailing Takada. There's something big going on here, Matt. I can feel it."

I returned to the apartment, and to my surprise Mello was already there. I set my bag down and sat on the couch beside him.

"Hey," I said. "I was hanging out with Matt."

"Video games, I assume?" he asked. I nodded. "I got accosted by a crazy lady who thought I was a hooker."

I took the sheet of paper Matt and I had been writing on, and wrote, 'Near, for some weird reason told me not to tell you he was watching us. He had a deluded idea that I would choose him over you.'

"Mihael," I said softly. "When did you want to get married?"

"Oh," he said. "Well, I guess when the Kira thing is over."

"Well, what if we don't survive?" I said. "I want to die married to you."

It was not that I was lying, but I did have ulterior motives. If Raito did see me, and write my maiden name down in the notebook, and I took Mello's name, he possibly couldn't kill me. It depended on whether shinigami honored the sanctity of marriage.

"Okay," he said. "If that's what you want."

I kissed him tenderly, and whispered in to his ear, "I love you."

I got up from the couch and stretched casually.

"I'm going onto the balcony for a smoke," I said. "Care to join me?"

Mello got up and followed me out to the balcony. We say down, dangling our legs over the edge between the bars of guardrail.

"What are we going to do about Amane?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "Near has us beat right there. So we have to get smarter, and fuck him harder than he fucks us."

"Sounds like a plan," I said. "Fuck him right in his lily-white ass."

I lit up a cigarette and took a long drag. "How did you like my crazy-lady act?" I asked, smiling.

"It was rather hilarious, but you know," he said. "If you want to get under my leather, all you have to do is ask."

I swatted him playfully. "I would take you up on that offer, but creeper might be listening in."

Mello took a bit of chocolate from his current chocolate bar. "Any news on...ya know," he said, gesturing his head to my stomach, referring to my uterus, I assumed.

"No," I said. "But I'm late, if you know what I mean." I took another drag of my cigarette.

"If you are," Mello said. "I would give that up." He pointed to my cigarette.

"Easier said than done," I said. I took a final drag and tossed the butt over the edge.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked. "Seeing as I can't get to Amane, I guess I have some free time on my hands."

"I have an idea, and maybe if we're real quiet, maybe he won't hear us," I said, fiddling with his hand.


	12. Ashes

Chapter XII: Ashes

_And in the end I had to fall, always find my place among the ashes._

I walked through the halls of Whammy's house for the first time at the age of eighteen. I was fresh out of high school, and my parents' home, and dating possibly the strangest man I had ever met. I remember talking to the curious children, most of them were autistic, or just very eccentric. I remember a twelve year-old boy named Mello. A rebellious pre-teen with scathing anger issues. But he was drawn to me, always wanting to share with me his feelings, his ideas.

I returned at the age of twenty-two, and he was sixteen. It was then I stopped thinking of Mello as a confused little boy, but a strong young man. I could tell he felt for me, but I couldn't let him into mind like that. He was a minor, and I was a young woman fresh out of college with a steady boyfriend of four years. And then a year and half later, I ran to him, desperate, bruised, weak.

I had seen Near once or twice, but never spoke to him. But now that L was out of the way, Near was desperate, it seemed, to own me. Despite his head games, despite his cruelty, I was starting to develop feelings for him. I hated myself for it. Whatever good he had some for me was for his benefit, mostly. I feared there would come a day, when I couldn't say no, when I would lose control, and I would let him have me. I sometimes had fantasies about what it would be like to sleep with him. He was young, but had a strong sexual power over me. He was twisted, he haunted me with his words. He tormented me, scaring me, but inspiring an almost insatiable lust in me. I wanted him. I wanted to feel his touch on my bare skin. I wanted it. I hated and loved the way he toyed with me so childishly.

I didn't love him though. I pretty much hated him. But hate seemed to fuel my lust. It made it even more wrong. More forbidden. But Mello. I did love him. He protected me, he respected me, and basically treated me like a princess. He wasn't Mello to me anymore. He wasn't that little boy. He was Mihael. He was a fire that burned inside of me. He was passion.

_And as we lay in silent bliss, I know you remember me._

I stood in front of the altar, nearly trembling. I wasn't even wearing a wedding dress. It was just a simple deep red dress. Beside me, stood Mihael. In a black dress shirt and pants. Nothing fancy. Just the two of us, and Matt, because we needed a witness. All the words the pastor was saying didn't really register, except the ones that made it final. "...Then by the power invested in me, I now prononce you man and wife."

January 20th. Barely over a week until I was supposed to meet with Near, Raito, and the Japanese taskforce. I had little time left to investigate Raito and Takada. But this time, after calling all of the hotels under the guise of also being on the taskforce, one finally took the bait and revealed that he and Takada were going to be meeting at that hotel at eleven PM. I hadn't yet revealed to Mihael the nature of my investigations, worried he would try to stop me. I was in the car with Matt, four days into my marriage. Matt insisted upon calling me "Mrs. Mello." We arrived at the hotel. It was ritzy, in an almost tacky fashion. We pulled into an indiscreet part of the parking lot, darkened by the presence of decorative trees, blocking the lights. Matt handed me the bag of disguise items.

"Maid outfit," Matt said, pulling out a stolen uniform from the hotel. "Check."

"Blonde wig." He pulled out a platinum blonde wig with long bangs. "Check."

"Fake titties." He took out a pair of silicon bra implants. I prompted for them, because I was noticably flat-chested, and wanted to disguise all my defining attributes. "Check-a-rooni."

"The lovely lacy undergarment for the titties to go in." He pulled out a D-cup bra that dwarfed mine. "Check. That's everything."

"Okay," I said. "Get out for a second, I'll change real quick."

"Oh come on, Morgan. We're practically like sliblings," he said with a big smile on his face.

"Out, pervert."

"Fine," Matt sulked. He got out of the car and moped, back against the window.

I stripped off my clothes, put on the large bra. I felt slightly self-conscious, but I got over it and slipped in the fillers. I put on the Maid's outfit. It was a little small for my size ten frame, clinging to my curves and my fake boobs almost burst out. I tied up my hair, and put the blonde wig on. For the finishing touch, I coated my lips with cherry-red lipstick. I stepped out of the car, and inspected myself in the reflection in the window.

"I think I can feel my IQ dropping," I said.

"Now that I see it," Matt said. "I think I like your old boobs better." I glared at him sharply.

"You're never going to let me see your jahoobs, are you?" he sulked.

"Not on your life, sport." I grabbed a pair of black heels from the seat and slipped them on. "I really feel like a bimbo," I said.

"Well, you really look like one," Matt retorted.

"Shut up," I snapped. "I'll be back later."

I walked into the hotel from the back door. I nervously waited for someone to introgate on why I was there, but nobody said anything. I walked through the laundary room, grabbing a houskeeping cart, and I went on my merry way. Raito was on the top floor, and had booked the room for two hours. I casually went from floor to floor, acting as though I was very busy and had something important to do. I attracted no attention, except for people staring at my fake bust. Finally, at a quarter to one, I rode the elevator to the top floor. Raito was in room 537. I walked past many numbers. 501, a minute later, 514. I seemed to have reached Raito's room just in time, Because he was standing in the doorway, straightening his tie. I saw Lidner and Takada walking down to the elevator. Raito asked me something in Japanese.

"I'm sorry," I said, in a submissive tone. "I-I just moved here. I don't speak much Japanese."

Raito rolled his eyes coldly. "You know what to do with items, right?"

"Y-yes," I stammered.

"Then get to it, idiot," he yelled.

I rushed inside the room, as though terrfied. I was terrified. I was afraid that any second, he would pin me down, and assault me. I nearly started trembling.

And then, I looked on the table. There were notes written in different handwriting. They were Japanese, so I couldn't read them. But they must have been important, they must have been the items he was referring to. I picked them up; there were eleven in total. I folded the together, and stuck them on my hip under the elastic of my undergarments. I quickly rearranged the room, replacing the notepads, pens, everything. Within 90 seconds, I was done. And then.

I felt them.

Hands.

Firmly on my shoulders.

Breath on my ear.

I turned around.

And he had the look.

I crashed to the floor with one good shove, my wig falling aside.

"You," he breathed. "You're supposed to be dead. I should have figured Near would lie."

He walked to the door, shut it, and locked it.

"I am going to kill you," he said coldly. He started unfastening his belt. "But first, I am going to show the world what happens when you mess with Kira." He pulled his belt off.

I screamed with the white hot pain as he started to beat me with the leather belt. I could feel blood running down my back, the fabric ripped and air stinging my wounds. At last he threw the belt aside, panting, beads of sweat forming on his brow. I was blinded with pain and fear. I tried to crawl for the door, weak and trembling, on the verge of vomiting. My darkest fears were playing out, in real life. I could only cry and beg and make whatever attempts to get away. Weight crashed onto my back. I screamed. He gagged me with his hand, but I screamed anyway, until my throat was raw. He rubbed his erection against me through our clothes, but soon it didn't seem to be enough. He got up, and started unbuttoning his pants.

"Take off your clothes," he demanded. He turned away for one split second.

I seized the oppurtunity. Not to escape, but keep my torture from being in vain. I pulled the notes from my underwear, and quickly stashed them under a nearby chair, out of sight. And then, with the best of my ability, I got up, and stripped naked like I was told.

He pushed me onto my back, and took a piece of washcloth and shoved it in my mouth. I closed my eyes. I had to block out the sight of it. All I could feel was hands on my thighs. I could hear the sound of a zipper. And then he slammed into me. I screamed as loud as I could. Screaming was the only thing I could do to block out the pain, even if no one could hear. Within a few minutes, it was over, but it felt like so long. The worst moments of our lives seem to last forever. Because having that psycho mass murder beat and rape me for fun was the worst moment of my life.

"Pathetic," Raito spat at me. "Just a crumpled heap of wasted humanity."

It was over with one swift kick to my lower stomach. I immediately spat up a little blood. Even if I managed to dodge the deathnote, I knew it would be unlikely I could survive such injuries. He forced me to dress, spitting up blood all over my clothes. Raito grabbed my ankles and began to drag me down the silent hallway. I was completely unable to even crawl. Just putting my clothes on had drained all my energy. But I had won. Raito looked away, his fatal mistake. I had the notes.

I faded in and out of consciousness. I was in an elevator, and then outside. I was laying in a pile of bushes, completely hidden by the trees and lack of light. My body would not be found until morning. For hours, I lay there. Until something in me decided to fight. I managed to get up, and start ambling. I will not die, I said to myself.

I will not die.

I will not die.

I WILL NOT DIE!

I was in a groggy and dizzy state, but I managed to spot that muscle car, parked there. I collapsed onto the freezing cold pavement, listening for a moment at the sounds of what was undoubtedly Matt's sneakers.

"I won, Matt," I said.

And I lost all consciousness.


	13. Destroyed

Chapter XIII: Destroyed

I moaned softly as I opened my eyes. Light poured into my eyes, straining them, making them ache. My whole body exploded with pain, like it was brusied all over, right down to the bone. I realized where I was. I was back at the apartment, in bed. I looked over at the end table. It was covered in various medical supplies, bandages, stitches, rubbing alcohol, guaze...I knew that I would probably need to see a doctor later on, but it wasn't an option at that moment.

I crawled out of bed, and started shuffling weakly for the living room. Mihael was there, sitting on the couch, staring at his computer screen, with a piece of chocolate wedged between his teeth. Spread out on the table were the notes I had managed to get from the hotel room. His face was weary and pale, he had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He didn't even see me enter the room.

"You look like hell," I observed.

He looked up at me, expressionless. Like his face was too tired to show emotion.

"I thought you were going to die," he said. "You wouldn't wake up for days."

I ambled over to the couch and sat by him. My mind was being racked with memories. Pain. Fear. Blood. I fell into Mihael's arms, trembling, wishing I could not remember.

"He hurt me," I whispered. "He raped me. And I wanted to die. I wanted him to kill me. I feel broken."

I had wanted to die. I wanted to not have to go on in life, with those scars, with that baggage on my shoulders.

It was January 24th. Night was beginning to fall. Mihael and Matt had a plan to kidnap Kiyomi Takada to get Teru Mikami to reveal the true location of the notebook. It was the one clue Near would need in order to survive his meeting with Kira. We were one step ahead this time. But when the time came, I knew Mihael would not let me do anything to help, because of my fragile condition. But I was going to do something. Somehow, I knew that if I wasn't there, one or both of them would die. Matt was at the apartment, he and Mihael plotting finalizing the details of the plan. And when they weren't looking, I snuck out the door, into Matt's car. I lay flat on the floor of the backseat, out of sight.

I waited there for about fifteen minutes, until I heard the car door open and close. I peaked up, and saw Matt sitting in the driver's seat. He hesitated for a moment, and then started it up. I had to suppress a scream as he sped out of the parking lot, knocking me against the seat, causing the wounds on my back to hurt badly. I remained deadly silent. After a few minutes of driving, Matt rolled down the window and tossed something out, but I couldn't see what it was. I heard shouting and gunfire, and the familiar roar of a motorcycle. Matt floored it down the street, burning rubber on the way out. I heard police sirens behind us, giving chase to Matt. There must have been at least twenty chasing us.

I flew forward as Matt suddenly hit the brakes. There was a large road blockade in front of us. My stomach churned with fear. Matt had no where to run. I prayed they would not shoot him. Just arrest him. Anything but that. Matt saved my life, he was one of the best friends anyone could have.

But.

My praying was all in vain.

He got out of the car. And I screamed. I screamed, and I was drowned out by the sound of thundering gunfire. It rained through the windows, and shattered glass fell onto me, still laying still on the floor of the car. I looked up. There was blood splattered on what was left of the glass. I saw Matt's body, leaning against the wind shield. He slid down, leaving a trail of bright, fresh blood on the glass. He landed with a thud on the ground, lifeless. Destroyed.

And then it dawned on me. I had to do something, or I would be next. I found myself mentally taking back whay I said. I wanted to live. I wanted to live so I could send Raito to his death. I had to act. And my chance came. A reporter was giving live feed on the situation, just feet away. I knew her name, and her face, and this is was my oppurtunity. I reached for the peice of deathnote in my bra. I felt in on my fingers, nearly in tears from my luck. I pulled it out and unfolded it. I quietly ravaged around in the junk in the backseat of the car, until I found a pen. I cleared my mind, and pictured the reporter's face, made it the main focus in my mind. And with my shaking hand, I wrote down her name.

40 seconds. 40 seconds seemed like eternity. Twelve, thriteen, fourteen. I closed my eyes. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three. I bit my lip. Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one. I clenched my fists. Thirty-seven. Thirty eight. Thirty nine. I heard an earsplitting scream. The reporter collapsed with a thud, and as planned, all the police lost focus on the car. I sprung to action. I left from the backseat and opened the door on the driver's side. I found new strength, adreniline pumping in my veins. I grabbed Matt's body and dragged it quickly into the car, propping it up into the passenger's seat. I and I grabbed the wheel, and floored the accelerator. I blasted through a small hole in the blockade, brushing two police cars. I kept my foot planted on the accelerator, and I drove onto an exit.

I heard sirens behind me, but they seemed to get farther and farther away, unable to match the speed of Matt's car. I raced down the emptied highway, toward Nagano. I looked over at Matt for a moment. He was lifeless. His face was frozen. His eyes were wide with shock, his mouth slightly ajar. My own hands had his dried blood on them. I turned my attention back to the road. Everything was quiet now. I had lost the police. And ahead of me was the old abandoned church. My mind churned into thought. Raito had access to Takada, who had access to Mikami. There was a possibility Takada had a note on her.

I pulled into the old church. I spotted the moving truck already parked. I stopped the car, and took the key out. And I breathed for a moment. I unbuckled my seatbelt, and stumbled out of the car. Mihael got out the truck, in total shock. He was alive. For now. I started walking over to him, and he promptly grabbed me by the arms and firmly pushed my against the side of truck.

"What the hell are you doing?" he yelled. "I told you to stay at the apartment. The police are probably on our trail now. You could have fucked everything up. Why did you do this?"

I bit my lip, hard, this time drawing a little blood. "I think Kiyomi Takada might have a note on her," I said weakly.

He dropped me, and ran to the back of the truck. I fell to the ground, shivering, finally feeling the cold as the adreneline disappated out of my body. I lay there, too weak to get up. I was run ragged. After a minute or so, Mihael stepped back out of the truck, shutting it behind him. He walked back around, with a piece of paper clutched in his fist.

"You were right," he said. "She did have one. I stopped her from writing my name down, and made her tell Kira that she did. And I took her phone."

He grabbed my hand and helped me get up. I wrapped my arms around him, and broke down into tears. Tears of sorrow for Matt. And tears of joy, because it may be finally over.

"Matt," I croaked. "I couldn't save him. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He held me tight in his arms, and he was also shaking. I felt a warm tear on his cheek. I looked up and saw his deep brown eyes were red and bloodshot, and wet.

And then there was an explosion. We were knocked to the ground in a great wave of heat, as the truck exploded into flames. I landed on the ground, Mihael on top of me. We covered our heads with our hands until the shrapnel stopped falling. He got off of me, and looked up to the burning truck. I got up on my knees to look myself.

"This is Kira's doing, or maybe Mikami's," he said.

"The fire is going to hit the fuel in the truck soon," I said nervously.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," he said, turning around and helping me up.

"In what? Your bike's destroyed, and we can't drive into Tokyo in Matt's bloody shot up car," I said.

"We'll have to walk. And we better get going, police are going to find this place soon," he said.

Mihael and I walked back out to Matt's car. Mihael opened the passenger door and picked up Matt's body.

"C'mon buddy," he said. "We won't leave you for the vultures."

We ducked into the tall grass beside the road, and started walking back towards Tokyo. It was starting to get dark, giving us the protection of night time. After a couple of hours, in the complete darkness, my cell phone rang.

"It's probably Near," I said. I pulled out my phone and saw that it was from a restricted number.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Morgan," Near said. "I'm happy to hear you're alive after that interesting scene on TV."

"Yeah," I said quietly.

"Is Mello alive?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "Takada almost wrote his name down."

"Is she dead?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah," I said. "Probably by Mikami or Kira's hand."

"We were able to locate the real deathnote," Near said. "You saved alot of lives, you know."

"You're welcome," I said spitefully. "But I doubt I'm going to able to make it to your meeting on the 28th, we're kind of stranded."

"I can send a car or helicopter to come get you," he said. "I'll have you taken anywhere you want, no questions."

"I'm not sure where to go," I said. "As you probably saw, my friend was killed in the police stand off. And we're not going to let him be defiled by police or wild animals. Not that there's much difference in my mind."

"So you have Matt's body with you?" he said. "I can have it taken back to Whammy's house, where he can be buried."

"Matt was a Whammy kid?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "He wasn't very far up the list to replace L, but he was very bright."

"He was a good friend," I said quietly. "I'm going to give the phone to Mello, and he will tell you where we are."

Mihael set Matt's body down gently in the tall grass, and took the phone.

"There better not be any funny business, Near," Mihael said warningly.

"There won't be," I could Near's voice from the reciever. "I'm doing this for Morgan, and not you."

Mihael suddenly looked very angry. "Whatever. We're about ten miles from Tokyo, on a long stretch of road."

"I know where that is," Near said. "Hand the phone back to Morgan, please."

Mihael gave the phone back to me.

"Thanks for this," I said. "You're still an incredible jackass, though."

"And you're an ungrateful bitch," he said. "But I love you."

"You're a dirty little git," I said cruelly.

"I love it when you talk British to me," he said. "It turns me on almost as much as jackass."

"Will you stop that?" I said angrily. "It's really pissing me off."

"The helicopter will be there shortly," he said. "And I will see you on the 28th."

"Fine," I said, feeling really pissed off.

"Morgan," he said. His voice was gentle and disarming.

"What?" I said nervously.

"I mean it. I love you."

"Go to hell," I said, almost shouting.

I placed the phone back into my pocket. Actually, it was more like throwing, shoving, and yelling angrily.

"I hate that asshole," I said, through gritted teeth.

"Apparently, he doesn't hate you," Mihael said. "In fact, he seems to find you fascinating."

"Don't be jealous," I said. "He only wants me because I used to be L's girlfriend."

"And maybe because now you're mine," he said. "He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Don't fall for it."

"I'm not," I said defensively. "And you know I love you."

"Sometimes I wonder if you really do," he said coldly.

I bit my lip and stared at my feet. I felt like someone stabbed me with a blunt object in the chest.

"That hurt," I said quietly. "That hurt really bad."

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I was just angry at Near. I didn't mean it."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked.

Our conversation was drawn to a sudden close with the arrival of the helicopter. The light flashed down on us, and the gust from the blades nearly knocked us down. I spotted Gevanni in one of the seats. Two other men got out and looked at Matt.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"Oh," I said quietly. "He's dead."

"I can see that," he said. "Our instructions are to have him cleaned up at the morgue and then transfered to England for burial."

They placed Matt on a stretcher, and put him in the copter. Mihael and I got on the helicopter, sat down next to each other, and fastened ourselves in. After a short trip, we landed at the airport. Mihael and I were escorted to a black car at the pick up area at the front of the airport. Mihael had the driver take us back to the apartment.

I felt like falling into bed for days and days. I was physically and emotionally drained. There was nothing left to be done, and now all I could do was wait. All I could was wait for the curtain to close.


	14. Kira Exit Stage Right

Chapter XIV: Janurary 28th, the Year of Our Lord 2010

It was eleven o'clock. I was in a hotel room with Near, two hours before the meeting. He was sitting amongst his giant pile of toys, but not touching any of them. Instead, he was twiddling his white-blonde hair around his finger. His pale blue eyes were locked onto me. He looked like a ghost; his skin was extremely pale, he always wore white.

"Near," I said. "Are you a true albino? I was just wondering, you certainly look like one."

"Yes," he said. "I like it." He smiled childishly.

"You look like a ghost," I said. "It's like you're glowing."

"And you look like a shadow," he said. "You're dark, and soft. I want to touch you."

"Thanks, I guess," I said nervously. "What are we doing here?"

"In an hour we'll be moving to the sight of the meeting. I just wanted you in safe hands until then," he said.

"I was in safe hands," I said, suspicious. "I was with Mello. He would die for me."

"Why do you always stay on the opposite end of the room from me?" He asked. "Come here. I won't hurt you."

I got up, and sat down near him like he wanted me to. I felt nervous with those eyes so close to me.

"Where did those cuts and bruises come from?" he asked. "Did Mello do this?"

"No," I said angrily. "He would never do that."

"Then who thrashed you like that?" he asked.

"Raito Yagami," I said. "I was doing some undercover work, and he caught me."

"Oh," Near said curiously. "What did he do, exactly?"

"He hit me with his belt," I said quietly. Near reached up and started stroking one of the scratches on my face lightly with his thumb. I flinched a little bit, keeping my eyes locked on his hand.

"What else?" he asked. "Did he force himself on you?"

"Yes," I said even quieter.

And then, one hand became two, and his lips were on mine. I immediately pulled away, starting to tremble.

"Near," I said, in an almost terrified tone. "Don't."

"It's okay," He whispered into my ear. I felt completely disarmed, stripped of any power or control. He kissed me again, tenderly and slowly. I started shivering with the chill of his lips and hands. He leaned over on me, pushing me down onto the floor. His lips were holding me captive in his phantasmal spell. He broke the kiss for a second, staring right into my eyes, and those hands started unbuttoning my shirt. My stomach dropped at the realization of his intentions.

"I can't do this with you, Near," I said, truly scared. "You're only fifteen. You don't know what you're doing."

"I know exactly what I'm doing," he said. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

He pushed me into another chilling kiss, sucking my bottom lip. He ran his hands through my hair for a moment, and then resumed taking my shirt off. I closed my eyes. I wanted this, but I didn't want to want it. I couldn't will myself to stop it. I was just too high on my own lust. I was losing control of myself. I shivered as his hands ran down my chest and stomach. His hands reached under my bra, teasing with his fingers. I moaned against his lips. Ecstasy poured into my veins, intoxicating and conquering my brain. I was also suddenly glad I had taken out the piece of notebook before leaving.

He reached around my back and started unhooking my bra. He pulled it off and tossed it aside. I trembled as his lips descended on my left breast. I shuddered with pleasure as he teased me with his tongue. His hands moved down and started unbuttoning my pants as he moved to the right. He leaned up for a moment to pull my pants off, and leaned back down and kissed me again. This time, I kissed back with full force. I had given up. I had surrendered to him. He had gotten what he wanted out of me. My eyes rolled back in my head as one of his hands started rubbing me through my underwear. I moaned loudly against his lips, my body completely filled with pleasure. I grasped at his neck with my nails, digging deeper with the increasing pleasure.

He moved his other hand down, and pulled off my underwear. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom, still in its wrapping. I knew he had planned for this, but it was too late. I was already wasted with pleasure. He leaned back up, and balanced the condom in his teeth. He unbuttoned his pants. I closed my eyes, waiting for the final consummation. I heard the sound of the condom wrapper being torn. After another minute, he leaned back down on me. I wrapped my legs around him, and braced myself. He entered me slowly, and I could hear him take a sharp breath as he did. He moved in and out slowly at first, but slowly gaining speed. I panted and moaned as he rubbed against my g-spot, bringing me closer to orgasm with every push. He didn't last long, understandable since it was his first time. But I wasn't there yet, he was still hard, and I wanted more.

"Don't stop," I begged. "I'm not there yet."

He kept going, as fast as he could, until finally I cried out and shuddered with pleasure.

"Near," I said quietly.

"Nate," he corrected. "My name is Nate."

"Oh," I said, breathless.

"Say it," he said. "Please. In your soft little voice."

"Nate," I gave in.

I only stared at the wall while getting dressed. The whole thing had felt like a dream. Like it wasn't real, and no one but I existed. I could hardly being to think a boy that young would know how to do things like that, but Near was not an ordinary boy. Somehow, I felt disgusted. I didn't want to ever have to see his face again. But I knew that wasn't going to be an option. But soon my disgust was replaced with a sense of fear.

"We have to go, Morgan," Near said. "Nobody is going to die today, so don't be afraid. We've taken precautions."

"Okay," I said quietly.

"I need you to stay hidden until I tell you to come out," he added. "I cannot allow Kira to see you until the timing is right."

We walked out the door, walking slowly down the silent hotel hallway. Lidner, Gevanni and a man named Rester followed behind us. We exited the hotel through the front entrance, silent and stiff as ghosts. We piled into the black car that had picked me up the same morning. The mood in the vehicle was one of uncertainty, except for Near, who remained calm and composed. His emotionless facade was almost frightening. I chewed my lip, although it was bloody and sore. It wasn't the idea of possibly being killed by Raito, it was the fact I would be in the same room with him, and have to tell the people around me what he did to me. I felt like I was going to lose my lunch all over Gevanni's shoes.

"Try not to eat your lip when we're confronting Yagami," Near said. "Or look at your shoes. It's a dead give away to when you're feeling uncomfortable or scared. Plus, it's going to get infected at the rate you're going."

I nodded silently, and I looked up out of the window and saw we were near our destination. The sun was high in the sky at this point. I couldn't help but wonder how long this would take.

"Near," I started. "I have a flight to catch at around nine tonight. Do you think this will be over by then?"

"Probably," Near said. "Where are you going?"

"Mello and I are flying back to England for Matt's funeral."

We arrived at an old abandoned warehouse. The January air was freezing on my skin, and it was silent, aside from the distant sound of waves crashing. There was a potent smell in the air; low tide. The warehouse was not heated. It was deathly cold, and silent as a corpse aside from the creak of the fan. Near pulled some figurines out of his pocket; One for each person attending the meeting. He also put on a mask that resembled the face of L. It was rather cartoon-looking, but it was an obvious caricature of L. I took my place in the back of the warehouse, shrouded by the dark. At last I heard tires pull up on gravel. I heard car doors open and close, and the shrieking sound of the metal being pulled open. I recognized Raito leading the three men at his side. The men had been in the building the day I was arrested and badly wounded. Aizawa, Ide, and Matsuda.

"L," Aizawa started in a heavy Japanese accent. "Those four are the SPK, and the one with the mask is Near. I'm sure of it."

"Yes," Mogi answered. "I was with Near before he put the mask on, so I assure you, it's him."

"Aizawa, Mogi," Raito said arrogantly. "Whether this is the real Near or not is of no interest to me."

"Wait a moment," Matsuda injected nervously. "I don't care who he accuses of being Kira, but that mask proves that he's only trying to protect himself."

"Matsuda," Raito said, still emotionless. "Near thinks I'm Kira, so it can't be helped."

"But he talked so much about seeing you face to face," Matsuda said. "It doesn't seem fair."

"I'm telling you," Raito said, annoyed. "Near has his own ideas about what's going on here, so it's not going to help if we complain about it. Let's just get on with it."

"This mask," Near said. "Is just insurance."

"Insurance?" Matsuda asked.

"I am confident that both Kira and the person ordered to do the killings, x-kira, do not know my face," Near explained. By x-kira, I assumed he meant Mikami.

"But there is a possibility that everybody else's face is known to these individuals in question," Near continued. "Of course, this is assuming L is Kira, so since the place and time of our meeting was decided upon three days ago, there is a chance that everybody's name excluding mine may already be written down in the notebook to be killed." Near knocked down all the figurines, except his and the Kira figurine. "If that were to happen, only Kira and I would be left, and all Kira would have to do is write my name down in the notebook that Aizawa has with him right now, though it is my hypothesis that the Kira here does not have the ability to kill just from looking at our faces. So please, give me an hour; no, thirty minutes to be sure that no one here is already marked to die by the notebook."

"What?" Matsuda choked nervously. "So you're waiting to see if we die?"

"That's okay," Raito said. "We'll let Near do what he likes, if not, we won't be able to clear things up." Raito looked over to Near. "Near, I believe that you are, in fact, the real Near, and I care little about the face behind the mask. What I would like to see is what you were going to show me pertaining to the Kira case."

"That can only be revealed to you after I take my mask off," Near said.

"You can't show the evidence to us unless you take the mask off," Matsuda said. "But you're not going to take it off. Aren't you contradicting yourself?"

"He means that he's going to take it off once he males sure that everybody remains alive," Raito explained.

"Yes," Near confirmed.

The next few minutes passed in silence, silence that seems so deathly slow. I wondered when I would be allowed to come out.

"Near," Matsuda said. "It's been more than thirty minutes now, and nothing's happened."

"Very well," Near surrendered. "It seems that that you are all safe. I'll go ahead and take the mask off." Near reached up and slipped the mask off over his head, revealing his face, at last.

"Young lady," he said, looking at me. "You may come out and reveal yourself now, if you wish."

My legs felt like rubber as I stepped into the light. The members of the Japanese taskforces' faces lit up with shock to see me. Raito's face remained motionless, but his eyes were screaming. Screaming for me to die.

"Does this look familiar to you, L?" Near asked, his faced splayed in a childish grin.

"That is the girl we arrested as an accomplice to Mello," Raito said. "But other than that, no."

"Okay," Matsuda interjected. "Now that you've taken the mask off, are you going to show us?"

"Matsuda," Ide said, trying to calm Matsuda's nerves. "Don't rush him."

"I'm sorry," Near said. "But you are going to have to wait again."

"Wait again?" Ide asked. "What are we waiting for?"

"For the one who'll solve everything," Near said.

"The one who'll solve everything?" Ide asked.

"I assure you that this person will come," Near said. "So we must wait. This building is completely sealed. The only way to look inside is to open that door right there. Therefore, this very important person will come through that door. Or at least, try to peek through it."

"Who's going to come?" Matsuda asked nervously.

"This meeting was kept a secret from everybody except those who are here right now," Near said. "That's right. So the person coming is x-kira, Kira's loyal follower, who learned about our location from none other than Kira himself." Near turned his attention to Aizawa.

"Mr. Aizawa," Near said. "You kept an eye on L even after Takada died, right?"

"Yeah," Aizawa answered.

"Then x-kira will come. Kira used Takada to contact Kira," Near explained. "The night we decided where and when to meet, L met Takada, and Takada relayed the information to x-kira. I am completely sure of this. But Mello's kidnapping of Takada was a surprise for both L and myself. With Takada dead, L could no longer contact x-kira, and was unable to call his plan off." Near thought for a moment. "No, it would be meaningless for him to call everything off. The thought would have never crossed him mind, because he did not want to interfere with his plan or mine."

"Why do you assume that L is Kira?" Matsuda asked.

"Yeah," Aizawa added. "If a third party is really going to show up here, isn't it more likely that you're the one behind it all?"

"No," Near said. "Because the person we're waiting for is the only person currently in charge of carrying out Kira's judgments. So obviously, this person is coming under Kira's orders.

"Hey, wait a minute," Matsuda said, "If this person is the one doing the killings, do you mean to say they're going to bring the notebook?"

"Yes," Near said. "This person will bring the notebook for sure. And then, after looking at my face, will write my name down."

"So you're going to prove that this person is Kira's henchman by being killed?" Matsuda asked.

"No," Near corrected. "Rather by having him to try to kill me."

"Wait a minute, Near," Aizawa interjected. "If x-kira is going to kill you, then he or she would need to kill everybody here, since we all know about the notebook."

"That's right," Near confirmed. "It would be the perfect victory for Kira, not to mention the sole reason Kira agreed to this meeting in the first place."

Looks of panic grew across the faces of the Japanese taskforce, aside from Raito. Raito remained composed, still as a statue, emotionless. Apathetic.

"I don't get it," Matsida said. "What are you talking about? That third party is going to bring the notebook here to kill us?"

"And you're asking us to just stand here and watch?" Ide added.

"That's right," Near confirmed.

"That's ridiculous!" Ide shouted. "Then you'll be playing right into Kira's hands. We're going to lose no matter what we do."

"No," Near said. "We will win. If you do as I say, we will win without a doubt." Near propped up his figurine. "So if x-kira enters through that door, I want you all to let him in. And if that door opens, however slightly, I want you all to pretend not to notice it."

"This is ridiculous," Ide mumbled.

"Near, you're making it sound as if you're actually Kira," Aizawa said. "You're the one who proposed the idea that we all meet here, and now, you're asking everybody to have their names written down in the notebook. It's only natural for us to think that. But, I'll do as you say."

"Hey Aizawa," Matsuda said. "What do you mean? I don't get it."

"I'm with Aizawa," Mogi said.

"Mogi," Ide said, surprised.

"He's already here," Near said.

Our faces froze, trying not to look at Mikami. I strengthened my resolve, and held faith in Near's plan. Near's face lit up with glee.

"I can't just watch," Matsuda said, panicked. He pulled out his handgun. "If this person is really writing our names down, then,"

"Don't move," Gevanni warned. Rester and Gevanni had their guns aimed at Matsuda.

"Are you kidding me?" Matsuda said frenetically.

"Don't worry," Near assured. "You won't die. Please just be still. Kira's identity will be revealed."

"How can you be so sure we won't die, Near?" Aizawa asked.

"I've tampered with the Notebook," Near said. "We managed to get it into our possession, and replaced the pages. The person behind the door, the one in charge of the actual killing, has been filling up one page every day, so I just calculated which page would correspond to today's date, and replaced all the subsequent pages."

"Replaced?" Matsuda asked.

"You got a hold of it? You actually did that?" Aizawa said, trembling.

"The person writing the names down outside will eventually look inside to see if we have died," Near explained. "At which point, we'll seize him and the individual whose name is not written down will inevitably be Kira."

"You're right," Aizawa surrendered. "The person whose name isn't written down would be Kira."

I noticed how Near failed to mention one key detail, but I didn't say anything about it. It was his show, and I decided to let him run it. Raito's face curled into an arrogant grin.

"To the one outside," he said. "Did you write the names down in the notebook?"

"Yes," came a frantic voice. "I did."

"That's strange," Near observed. "Why would he reply in earnest, 'Yes, I did,' when you asked him if he wrote the names down."

"Who knoes?" Raito weaseled. "Maybe he's honest, or confident for some reason. It may even be that he knows your plan."

"Huh?" Matsuda panicked. "Then that means we're all doomed."

"Teru Mikami," Near said. "Why don't you come in here?"

"Teru Mikami?" Raito asked. "That's right. Stop hiding and come in here."

"Teru Mikami, I know that you're in charge of carrying out Kira's killing right now," Near said. "You've already written the names down, so there's nothing to be afraid of. Please come in. Or did Kira order you not to come in?"

The door creaked open, blasting a fresh wave of freezing air on to us. A young man, with long, black, frenetically messy hair stood in the doorway with a truly maddened grin on his face.

"Your wish is my command," he said, looking at Raito. "God."

"How many seconds has it been since you wrote the first name down?" Ratio asked.

"35," Mikami counted. "36, 37..."

Raito's face grew into an evil grin.

"38," Mikami continued. "39."

"I win," Raito said. "Near."

I closed my eyes, as everybody's faced crumpled into fear and anticipation. I wouldn't be surprised if Matsuda had pissed his pants. But nobody died. Nobody clutched their chests, screaming. Nobody collapsed on the floor. Nobody's eyes rolled back into their head. Nobody lost their lives.

"We're not dead," Ide said, trembling. "It's already been about a minute, and we're not dead!"

"Why?" Mikami screamed. "Why won't they die?"

Raito's face grew into a countenance of pure shock.

"God," Mikami said, addressing Raito. "I did as you told me!"

"Rester, Gevanni," Near said, still frighteningly calm as ever. "Get Mikami."

"God!" Mikami cried out, as the two men seized him into a headlock.

"Gevanni, get the notebook," Near instructed.

Gevanni picked up the notebook, and handed it to Near.

"See for yourselves," Near said as he showed everyone the page. Indeed, our names were all listed.

'Nate River, Anthony Carter, Stephen Loud, Halle Bullock, Morgan Keehl, Konzo Mogi, Touta Matsuda, Hideki Ide, Shuichi Aizawa.'

Raito threw into a frantic tantrum, sweat coating his face, despite the freezing temperatures. For the first time, Raito Yagami utterly stank of guilt.

"A trap!" He cried. "This is a trap! Near set this whole thing up to frame me! It's impossible that nobody's dead even after their names are written in the notebook. That proves it's a trap!"

"What?" Matsuda said, shocked.

"But I told you nobody would die because I replaced the pages," Near said.

"Well...you," Raito stammered. "It can't be. It's impossible!" Raito then pointed at Mikami.

"This is a setup," he said. "I don't know this man!"

Mikami's face shriveled into absolute terror and betrayal. But it was clear that nobody was buying Raito's story anymore. He was completely washed up. Sold out. Defeated. Their faces all were stone frozen with disbelief. Unable to comprehend the situation.

"Raito," Aizawa coaxed. "It's too late. Near wins. A second ago, you said, 'I win.' That's as good a confession as any.

"Raito," Matsuda said, barely audible. He sank to his knees. "Why?"

Mogi stepped forward, clutching a pair of handcuffs. He stepped over to Raito. But Raito smacked the cuffs from Mogi's hands, and tried to run for door.

"Stop it!" he screamed, stumbling and falling to the floor.

"Raito Yagami," Near said. "L, Kira. You lose. You claimed your victory a moment ago." Raito scrambled up against the wall, breathless and scattered.

"And to tell you the the truth," Near continued. "You might actually have one, and I might have lost. You had Mikami use a fake notebook, and had him carry it around in front of us do we'd believe that it was the real thing. You even went so far as to suspect that I would replace the pages in the fake notebook, so that I wouldn't die even if my name was written in it. Things turned out exactly as you had expected, and we replaced the pages in the fake notebook. That indeed was the plan I had in mind as well. I replaced the pages of the notebook that happened to be a fake. and you had Mikami bring the real notebook out for the first time to kill all of us. That was your plan. But when I said, 'I replaced the pages in the notebook,' I meant in the real one as well. Meaning that I tampered with both the fake and the real notebook. I replaced only a part of the fake notebook, and I replaced the pages of the real notebook completely." Near reached into his baggy white shirt, and he withdrew a black, worn, ominous black notebook. The Deathnote.

"This is the real notebook," he revealed. "Gevanni did it overnight, whether he was able to replace all of it or not was the key to this plan. He did replace a part of the fake notebook with ease, but it was quite difficult to make a forged copy of the entire real one." Near set the two notebooks side by side. The two notebooks, indeed, looked exactly identical. The victims' names were written perfectly, completely verbatim.

"Gevanni promised me, however, that it could be done. He used the same pen that Mikami used, copied Mikami's handwriting to perfection, and even made a perfect copy of the cover in addition to the interior pages. And since I had already touched the notebook beforehand..." Near looked right beside Raito, as thought staring at something.

"I could see the shinigami from the moment you entered this warehouse. Mr. Shinigami, nice to meet you, I'm Near."

I watched and waited for something to answer, but I heard and saw nothing.

"Ryuk," Near adressed the phantom. "Until today, I always believed that shinigami had skulls for faces and carried sickles."

Once again, I didn't see nor hear anything. I figured the notebook that Mello obtained, the one where the piece I had used to evade the police came from must have belonged to Sidoh, who was long gone now.

"Near," I said. "If it would be alright, could I touch the notebook?"

He nodded, and held the notebook up to me. I touched a couple of fingers to it.

There, standing beside Raito, was a very tall human-like creature. It had pale, basically white skin, a very wide mouth, large, round glowing eyes.

"Well," I said to Ryuk. "You're a lot more attractive than Sidoh, at least."

"Damning me with faint praise, girl?" he responded in a deep, hissy voice.

"I looked through this notebook and found some pages were clipped out," Near said. "Can it be that people die even if you write names on pages that have been cut out?"

"Yeah," Ryuk replied in complete earnest. "They'll die."

Raito's face twisted with anger and panic. It would appear that shinigami were only on the side of those who profited them the most, as it was proven from Sidoh's betrayal of Mello and I.

"That was how that reporter died," I confessed. "The one at the scene of Matt's death. I didn't want to have to use the wretched thing, but I had to in order not to gunned down, and save Mello's life."

"Understandable," Near said simply. "Do you have the piece with you now?"

"No," I said. "I left it behind. I didn't feel that I would need to use it. I will destroy it."

"I'll take your word for it," Near said. "Even pieces are effective. I'm sure there must have been many uses for that. I can't even begin to think of how many people were killed and decieved because of that."

Near turned to Raito, and looked him directly in the eye.

"Raito Yagami," Near declared. "You are Kira."

Raito remained utterly silent. He was obviously confused as to how his seemingly perfect plan went so horribly wrong.

"I owe this to Mello and Morgan," Near said. "I'm sure you understand what I mean by that."

Near turned back to the page right before the page our names had been written on.

"Look at the page before the page I just turned to. This is the fake notebook we created, but it is exactly the same as the real one. The first line, if the page on the left."

'Kiyomi Takada, suicide. Burns to death by setting fire to everything around her, including what she wrote on. January 24th, 7:33 PM.'

"If Takada is in a situation like that," Mikami quivered. "Then it's my job to.."

"When Morgan tailed you at the hotel, she didn't lose to you," Near said. "She collected the information that lead Mello straight to Takada, and lead us to the notebook. That's right. When Mello kidnapped Takada, Mikami took out the real notebook. The one he had hidden in a safe deposit box at the bank. And he wrote Takada's name down."

"After Takada's kidnapping was announced on the news," Gevanni explained. "Mikami headed for the bank. October 25th was a Sunday, so he went on the 246th. But my research shows that in August, September, November, and December, he went to the bank on the 25th. So Mikami went to the bank on January 25th, but also on the 24th, when Takada was kidnapped. It was surely a strange move for Mikami, who was extremely methodical. As I entered the bank to get closer to him, I saw Mikami enter the safe deposit room. And for the first time, Mikami seemed to be nervous about having a tail on him."

"Mikami lives a completely fixed life," Near said. "But just as Takada was kidnapped, he suddenly goes to the bank two days in a row. To be honest, I only thought of the possibility of the notebook being a fake after Gevanni told me about this. Come to think of it, we should have suspected when Mikami used the notebook in public, and talked to himself about 'not having a shinigami.' The fact that we found out about Mikami so quickly actually worked against us. Until then, we were completely tricked by you, Takada, and Mikami, and replaced the pages in the fake book. So we actually would have lost if I hadn't found out. When Mello kidnapped Takada, you were no longer able to get in contact with Mikami. But Mikami still made his move for you, to perfection, in his role and Kira's stand-in. His overt adoration, sense of responsibility and perfection, and his intelligence worked against him this time. It wasn't difficult for us to sneak into the safe deposit room to crack it. It was an old fashioned safe at a local bank. Also, since you allowed us to look through Mikami's bag when he was at the gym, we already had made copies of all his keys and cards."

"That's right," Gevanni added. "It was an easy task to open that safe."

"This is very interesting," Near said. "In the fake notebook, the one we replaced the of first, one page was filled with names every day. But the real one jumps from November 25th to January 24th, when Takada's name was written down. That means that you had Mikami walk around with the fake notebook starting two months in advance to trick us. Before January 24th, the time of death wasn't specified, same as in the fake notebook. But after Takada's name was written down, all the judgments for January 24th were set to the early hours of the 25th, and the judgments for the 25th were set to the early hours of the 26th. In the fake notebook that Mikami made, Takada's name is probably written like this. But the rest of the page is only names, with no times written down to set the time of death. This means that when Mikami wrote Takada's name in the real notebook on the 24th, he also wrote the names of those people who were to be brought to justice on the 24th and 25th. Mikami could have killed people using the scraps from the notebook, but if he wrote on them in his house, assuming we had installed a camera, we might have found out about the fake notebook, and the fact that you can kill people even with just a piece of the notebook. In order to make Mikami's fake notebook look real, you probably cut the pages out of the real one and handed them to Takada, and had her actually do all the killings."

"A doppelganger for a doppelganger," I said. "Even before I had collected the notes from the hotel room, I had already thought that he had others doing his dirty work, and maybe even had sleepercell notes and writers around. But frankly, Near, I'm beginning to doubt Raito has anymore goons to call upon."

"That is an interesting thought, Morgan," Near said. "But your sleeper cell theory will reveal itself to be true or false very soon."

Slowly, Raito's face fell lower and lower. Perhaps he was coming to terms with defeat, or had already hatched a plan to escape.

"All Mikami had to do was send a list of people to be killed via cell phone or computer, and then delete the data," Near continued. "For the deaths on the 24th and 25th, you might have had him send a list of people to Takada after she was kidnapped, but just in case, Mikami wrote those names down too when he wrote Takada's name. As for the 28th, today's killings would be at your leisure, since it would have been after you killed us. So, though it's nothing I would have taken notice of under normal circumstances, if you look closely, there aren't any killings of new criminals of the 26th or 27th, and that was because Mikami was not allowed to take the notebook out again until today. Well...according to your plan. Raito Yagami, Mikami shouldn't have taken the notebook out until today no matter what. And though I don't know who is first, this means that you killed Takada, too. If the scraps of then notebook can be used to kill people, it is hard to believe that you wouldn't have had one on you." Near promptly knocked down Takada's figurine.

"Because you killed her too, the announcement of Takada's death was reported on the news quickly. And since Mikami also know of her death, you wouldn't have assumed that Mikami made a move on his own." Near dropped the notebook. It fluttered to the ground and landed with a soft thud.

"Too bad," he said, almost apologetically. "When Mello kidnapped Takada, Mikami wrote her name down in the real notebook too."

"God," Mikami cried out, like a frightened child. And Near still kept that frightening, unwavering calm. No, at this point his spirits were up. Raito's handle on his calm seemed to be slipping gradually. That oh-so-cool and arrogant facade was dissolving before us.

"For both you and me," Near said. "Having Mikami write our names down on the page on the right was the plan. We had to do that, if not, we wouldn't have been able to capture Mikami, get the notebook from him, or take a look at the notebook. Whether the page on the left was filled or not, it had to be the page on the right. And you tried to kill us by having us replace the pages of a fake notebook, and have Mikami bring the real one here. But we went a step beyond you by having Mikami being a fake version of the real notebook. It's a lot harder to find out that the notebook has been switched if you replace the whole notebook rather then just a part of it. Of course, this is in large part due to Gevanni and Rester, who duplicated it in one day. But the biggest thanks goes to the ones who created this situation; Morgan and Mello. Mello always said he was going to be number one, that he was going to be better than me or L, but I always knew that I would never be able to surpass L. It could be that I lack the action and he lacked the calm. And even though we couldn't surpass the one we admired on our own," Near balanced his figurine and Mello's on two of his fingers, and held L's in the other three.

"Together, we can stand with L. Together we can surpass L. Not to mention," Near glanced at me.

"He completely underestimated the power and intelligence of his own girlfriend." I felt suddenly very flattered at Near's compliment.

"And now," he continued. "We are facing Kira, whom L could find no proof against, the very kira who L was defeated by. Facing Kira with solid evidence before his very eyes."

"Raito," I said firmly. "Look at me, you arrogant pillock."

Slowly, Raito's maddened gaze met mine. I got pleasure out of my power. It was revenge, justice, and accomplishment wrapped up in one package.

"You," I hissed. "Are just a crumpled heap of wasted humanity."

He screamed. He grasped at his hair, thrashing like a small child having a tantrum. He screamed like he was being slowly burned to death. It was becoming very clear to us that Raito Yagami was defeated, and had never suffered a defeat like this before. The fabric of his plans were unraveling into tiny, insignificant, useless threads. His legacy, his kingdom, his pride laid in shreds before him, scattered by the winds of reality. Raito had been thrust into the real world. He was not a king, a god, or emporer. He was just a sad, evil man, wasted by the very thing that had given him such pride. He fell to his knees, screaming, scratching at the cold, hard ground.

"Bitch," he sobbed. "Whore."

I knew these insults were aimed at me. I could tell that Raito Yagami hated me more than anyone else there. Again and again I had eluded his grasp. I side-stepped every bullet he shot at me, I wrapped his lies and manipulation in my own lies and manipulation. But then, it seemed the center of Raito's mind tipped off-balance. It shook and quivered, and he was thrown deep into a bottomless abyss of madness. He began to laugh through his choking tears. He cackled as he was falling deeper into the hole of insanity that had been kept in a discreet pocket of his mind. All the lines and barriers had been breeched. There was no other place to go but insane. Slowly, he shook and staggered to his feet, smiling, absolutely high on his new found madness. His blurring of reality gave him comfort. His lunacy inspired euphoria. He laughed, dizzy with derangement.

"That's right," he giggled. "I'm Kira."

The others' faces turned to shock, except Near's. He had acknowledged the sudden sickness that encroached on Raito's poisoned mind. Near's face curled into a childish grin, his whole body seemed to glow with victory. Raito's eyes seared intensely with white-hot hate for both Near and myself.

"So now what?" Raito said, through a purely sickened grin. "Are you going to kill me right here?" Raito's hands gestured in the ghost of his once prized charisma, now corroded by the dementia.

"Listen," he hissed poisonously. "I'm Kira...and...the GOD of this new world. In this world, I am the law, and I am the one maintaining order. THAT is the truth. Now, I am justice. The world's, only hope. Are you going to kill me? Is that really the right thing to do? To capture Kira...that may have been the just thing to do in the past. But now, it's obviously evil. The mentality of this world has changed! Are you sure you want to capture Kira for your OWN satisfaction?" He took a breath of the freezing air, throwing out his arms in a valiant facade of righteousness.

"It's been six years since Kira appeared. War is a thing of the past. Most of the criminals have died, and the world's crime rate has gone down by seventy percent...but..." Raito's eyes began to utterly boil with passion.

"This world is still rotten. There are too many rotten people, so we must get rid of them. This is no accident. It is inevitable as long as those rotten people are alive. From the moment I got ahold of that notebook, NO! Even before that..." his voice dropped, hissing and spitting. A great inward shadow seemed to consume Raito.

"The world had fallen as far as it could fall, and humans had rotted as much as they could rot. It all boils down to those who interfere with people's pursuit of happiness or those who do not. Those who are worthy of living...and those who are not. Evil only gives birth to evil. And if those wicked people sins and run wild, then the weak will learn to commit crimes, and even try to justify their actions in the end. The evil people...the ROTTEN people...must be done away with."

Raito stared straight into oblivion. The roots of mental sickness seemed to grasp tighter at his mind, crushing it, suffocating it.

"But rotten people do not equal death. Evil people who are beyond saving have no choice but to die. Justice will be brought upon evil people. Justice will also be brought upon those who harm others. They'll start realizing the right way to live as a human being. The right to be happy, that is something that everybody has equal claim too. It must be so. But that is not something you get by harming, deceiving, or even killing other people. To pursue your happiness without getting in the way of others, while respecting others, that is the way humans should lead their lives. That is all you have to do to change people's way of thinking. So I must cut deeply into the root evil that has shaped the world into what it is today. Once the world changes, people begin to change. They become kinder. But those who still commit sins even after that are failures. Under ordinary circumstances, humans should have continues to evolve as the greatest creatures upon this Earth. But we are actually regressing. A rotten world; politics, law, education...was there anybody around who had the ability to correct this world? But...someone had to do it. From the moment I got a hold of the notebook, I knew I had to do it. I knew I was the only one capable of doing it. I knew that killing people was a crime, but that was the only way to correct this world, and one day, people will accept that as being righteous. I had to take the role of Kira and do it. This was a mission that was entrusted to me. I was chosen to make amends for this rotten world, and to create a truly safe and ideal world." Raito through himself back into the attention of the others, yelling and gesturing wildly.

"With this notebook," he shouted. "Would anybody else have been able to do this? Come this far? AND CONTINUE DOING IT? Would anybody else have been able to use just one notebook and lead this world to the right path? There are only those stupid people of low caliber, who would have used it for personal interests and selfish motives. I NEVER thought of making any profit from this. I am not like those crooks who make money by forcing deals upon the weak. Those are the type of people who harm this world." He took a shaky breath.

"That's right," he breathed. "Only I can do it...I am the only one who can create a new world, be on top of it, and guide it correctly...think about it."

I stepped forward, for the first time completely unafraid of the weak man in front of me. I no longer feared him. He could not touch me, he could not kill me. I was over him.

"That was a real nice speech, Raito," I started. "But you are not justice. You don't provide happiness or peace to anyone. I told you this, the first time I met you. Those people in the world...you make them toil in fear and misery, you take away their right to have their own beliefs. The people of this world live in fear of a selfish, evil, weak wannabe demigod. By your own definition, you deserve to die a thousand times over. What gives you the authority to take away people's lives? What gives you the right to dictate their lives? What you fail to see, is that everybody is a little bit rotten. That is human nature, It can't be changed, especially not by the efforts of you. If this is true...then you are the most rotten human in the entire world. I do pity you, Raito. I do believe you are severely mentally ill, and to some people, that might be a justification..." I took a sharp breath, and looked him directly in the eye. "But as far I am concerned, even someone vastly more mentally diseased than you could have chosen a different path. I believe you could have chosen to live peacefully. But you did not. And that, in my eyes, is what makes you evil. It's time to wake the fuck up Raito, because now you are just lying to yourself." I stepped a little closer to him.

"Do you know why so many people believe in the teachings of Jesus? Because Jesus did not try to cleanse the world through hate and death. Rather, he preached of love, compassion, forgiveness, and understanding. You have no right to compare yourself to God."

"Morgan," he hissed. "You foolish little woman. There is no god, or Jesus. But I would expect you to believe in such things, after all...you are just a woman. But you could have renounced your love for L. You could have chosen the path to righteousness."

Raito approached me, still staring sickeningly. But I did not tremble, quiver or quake. I stood my ground, and stared right back. I kept my unwavering gaze into the eyes of evil, even as his sinister hand petted my cheek, smiling evilly.

"Morgan," he whispered poisonously. "You could repent. You could destroy these stupid, pitiful fools. Together, we can create a utopia. Don't be another wasted life. Give into me. Now, tell me you believe in god. Tell me you believe in the correct god. The one standing before you, who so mercifully offered a second chance."

"I believe in god," I said strongly.

Raito moved in for a kiss, but his lips didn't reach my lips. I turned all the way around, fist drawn. I felt my knuckles collide with soft, rubbery flesh. Raito stumbled back, a little blood issuing from his nose.

"I believe in god, and it's definitely not you."

He got control of the blood flowing from his nostrils.

"Then you have chosen the rotten path," he said. "Stupid girl. If you think that arresting me is going to avenge L's death, then you are so greatly mistaken. Because, what you see before you is Kira, but also the god of this new world."

"No," Near said quietly. "You..." he began to crush his Kira figurine. "Are just a murderer. And this notebook here is the worst murder weapon in the history of mankind. If you had been a normal person, and used this notebook once out of curiosity, you would have been surprised and scared of what had happened, regretted what you had done, and never used this notebook again. To speak of extremes...I can actually understand those who would use this notebook for their personal interests and kill a couple of people, and even think that they're normal." Near continued crushing Kira's figurine.

"But you have yielded to the power of the notebook and shinigami and have confused yourself with a god. You're just a crazy mass murderer." Near discarded the crushed figure of Kira. "Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Near," Raito said. "You're wrong. I'm the icon of justice now."

"You may be right," Near said. "Nobody can tell what is right and what is wrong, what is righteous and what is evil. Even if there is a god, and I had his teachings before me, I would think it through, and decide if that was right or wrong myself. I'm not different than you."

When Near said this, though I knew it's not what he meant, I knew that Near was a little mentally sick himself. But somehow, Near used it to solve the Kira case. He chose a different path from Raito.

"I believe in what I think is right, and believe to be righteous. You are no god. And I feel that the whole of you setting the path for all the people to follow is neither peaceful nor righteous, and anybody who claims to be god and kills people from left to right is definitely evil by my standards...but what do the other people here, besides you and me, feel is righteous?"

Nobody said anything. I could tell they had a lot to consider, and it was a subject left to the eye of the beholder.

"Near," Raito said suddenly. "You first thought the notebook made by Mikami was the real one, and replaced the pages in it. And Mikami had the fake notebook that you made. In other words, both notebooks turned out to be fake, when both sides believed them to be real. And the mistake made by both sides was that they didn't test the notebook to see if it was real or not...so, how can you be sure that the notebooks here are real?"

Raito was bluffing. And I knew why; he had found an opportunity to get away, or kill. I knew without a doubt that he was bluffing. Raito doesn't give away pieces of his plots like this, or negotiates. There was something sinister brewing in his twisted head at the moment.

"The notebook you have with you right now," he said. "And the notebook Aizawa brought down from the Japanese headquarters. Are they real? That's right, if you really want to defeat Kira, then you should write my name or Mikami's name in Aizawa's notebook to see if that notebook is real."

"Raito Yagami...Kira," Near said. "I have no plans to kill you. I really don't care if the notebook is real or not anymore. From the very beginning, my goal was to capture Kira. All I want is for everything to become clear and for Kira to be captured. You're as good as arrested now, and I'll confiscate the notebook Mr. Aizawa has. That is enough for now. And I will not announce Kira's arrest or the existence of the notebook to the public. I believe everybody here can keep that secret. I'll take full responsibility for locking you up in a place where nobody will find you until you die. As for the notebook, the two rules that were written on the back cover; the thirteen day rule and the rule about how everybody who touched the notebook will die if the notebook is burnt were probably added by you later."

"That's true," I said. "Mello and I discovered this from another shinigami."

"The most important thing now," Near said to Raito. "Is to capture you."

"Well," Raito said, once again using his false-charisma. "Whether it's real or fake, don't you think it's a good idea just to take a look at it?"

I noticed it. Fingers on the side of his watch. I knew what his plan was now.

"If that notebook is real..." He said, twisting something on his watch.

"Or fake." A false bottom on the watch popped open.

"He's got a note hidden on him!" Rester called.

Raito was quickly writing something down, frantic and eager.

But Raito's plan was quickly interrupted by gunfire. Matsuda had shot the pen right out of Raito's hand. Blood exploded out of Raito's wrist.

"You idiot!" Raito screamed. "Who do you think you're shooting, Matsuda? DAMN YOU! If you're going to shoot someone, shoot the others! What do you think you're doing? Matsuda! I thought you were the only person who understood me. Kira is righteous! Kira is NEEDED!"

"What was it all for?" Matsuda choked through tears. "Chie-no...Deputy Director Yagami...he was your father. What did your father die for?"

"Dad?" Raito hissed. "Are you talking about Soichiro Yagami? That's right, Matsuda. Overly earnest people with a strong sense of justice like him always end up the loser." Raito struggled to his feet, blood pouring from his wrist.

"Do you want a world where people like him are always made fools of?" Raito yelled.

"You drove your father to his death," Matsuda said, his voice faltering. "And now, you're trying to change the subject by telling me he was made a fool."

"A society," Raito yelled. "A world where people like my father will never have to be made a fool...Soichiro Yagami died to create that. I'm telling you to kill the others so that his death was not in vain! Can't you understand me?"

Blood. The very essence of life. The thing that keeps people alive, that allows hearts to beat, lives to occur...the very foundation of ourselves. He was using it to kill. He was now attempting to write down the name with his own blood.

"He's using his blood!" Aizawa cried.

Matsuda shot him, several times. None were fatal shots, but Raito Yagami was without a doubt critically wounded.

"I HAVE TO KILL HIM!" Matsuda screamed. "THIS GUY HAS GOT TO DIE!"

Aizawa and Ide protested, but Matsuda fired anyway. He barely missed Raito's throat, but instead had put a hole in the floor. Mogi, Ide and Aizawa caught the hysterical man, taking his gun away. Raito lay a bleeding mess on the floor.

"Mikami!" he cried. "What are you doing? Help me! Write their names down. Kill them! Kill them...that's your job...what are you doing?"

"How could I write their names down...in a situation like this. And with a fake notebook..." Mikami choked through his own hysteria. "You're not god! What the hell is this? Look what you've gotten me into. You're no god...you're just...scum."

"Damn you!" Raito cried in anger.

"Since he had that piece carefully hidden in his watch, he probably doesn't have anymore," Near said. "Mogi, Ide, help me arrest Kira, Raito Yagami, the mass murderer."

The two men moved to arrest him, however Raito through himself into another tantrum.

"Stop it!" he screamed. "Don't come near me!" He started to feebly attempt to crawl away.

"Misa! Where's Misa? Misa, kill them...kill these guys..."

"Misa Amane is at the Teito Hotel right now," Near said.

"Hotel?" He cried. "What is that idiot doing at a time like this? Takada...where's Takada? Kill them...write their names down..."

"Kiyomi Takada is dead," Near said.

"Dead?" He screamed. "Somebody...anybody..."

"Near," Rester said. "It's over at last."

"Yes," Near agreed.

"Somebody..." Raito moaned. "Kill these guys.."

Raito kept pathetically dragging himself across the floor. His blood was everywhere; it stained our shoes, or in Near's case, socks, deep red. His cries of pain echoed through out the building.

"Raito," Mogi said. "It's over. If you don't give up, you're going to bleed to death."

Raito kept dragging his broken body, until he reached Ryuk's feet.

"Ryuk," he groaned. "I know! Ryuk, you can write the names down...write their names down into your notebook."

I knew that Raito was about to die. Ryuk would never help Raito. And I all I could do is watch the sick man's demise.

"Write it Ryuk!" Raito yelled. "Hurry!"

"Don't do it Ryuk!" Aizawa cried, as he and Ide withdrew their guns.

"If that shinigami is willing to write our names down when asked, that's all Kira had to do from the start; so it means that Ryuk does not assist Kira in those ways."

"Shinigami only do what's beneficial to them," I added. "I doubt killing us will be all that beneficial to him anyway."

"Please...Ryuk," Raito moaned. "You're all I have left to rely on! Please write the names down!"

"Sure," Ryuk said in a sinister manner. "I'll write it."

Everybody except Near and I threw into a panic, attempting to stop Ryuk by shooting him and yelling at him.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm a shinigami, so you can't kill me with those things, and stuff in the human world can't touch my notebook unless I allow it." Raito began cackling loudly.

"SUCKS TO BE YOU, NEAR!" He yelled. "The only choice you had was to kill me right away! But now that Ryuk's decided to write your names down, nobody can stop him! It's too late, you're all going to die!"

"No, Raito," Ryuk said. "The one who's going to die is you."

Exactly as I had predicted. Ryuk had written Raito's name down in the deathnote. Somehow, it felt as though some cycle had just been completed.

"Ryuk, you..." Raito moaned. Ryuk continued writing. Raito flopped with his last bit of strength, but it was useless. He fell right through Ryuk.

"No matter how I look at it, you've lost, Raito," Ryuk said. "I was kind of expecting to see you get out of this one, but if I'm your last resort, you're really done for. You've eased my boredom for quite a long time, haven't you?" Ryuk revealed the page to Raito. And indeed, written on it was 'Raito Yagami.'

"It was a lot of fun," he said.

"Am I going to die?" Raito cried. "I'm going to die!"

"That's right, in forty seconds," Ryuk said. "You'll have a heart attack. It's already been decided upon."

"I'm going to die," Raito moaned. "No...I don't want to die...I don't want to die, damn it! Stop it! I don't want to die!"

"You sound so undignified," Ryuk said. "It's not like you, Raito. I told you in the very beginning that I would be the one writing your name in the notebook when you die. That is the rule between the shinigami who brings the notebook into the human realm and the first human who picks up the notebook. If they put you in prison, who knows when you'll die? I don't want to just lie around waiting for you to die. So it's all over. You should die right here."

"No!" Raito cried. "I don't want to die! I don't want to die! I don't want to go to prison either! Do something! I know there's a way out of it, Ryuk!"

"Once a name is written down in the deathnote, you can't do anything about it. You more than anybody else here should know that," Ryuk said. "Goodbye, Raito Yagami,"

The next few seconds felt very long. Raito clung to Ryuk, screaming, begging for mercy. He could not accept that his time had come at long last. But then Raito fell silent, crumpled to the floor. He was motionless, dark and lifeless. Raito Yagami...Kira...was no more.

About an hour later, I sat there, in the warehouse, with Near. The others were taking care of Raito's corpse, filing papers, dealing with the general bureaucracy.

"I like your maiden name better," Near said. "But I think your name would sound best with my last name."

"Near...Nate," I started. "I do care a lot for you. But what happened this morning...was just a one time thing."

"I doubt that," Near said. "Because I won't stop until you belong to me."

"I'm leaving this place," I said. "I'm going home to England, and I'm not coming back. I am done with this country, with Kira, all of that bullshit. I don't want anymore adventures for a long time, unless they involve lying on a beach in Bora Bora."

"I know what you mean," he said. "I could use a rest."

"I feel like I need to sleep for the next three weeks or so," I said. "So, I guess you're L now?"

"Yes," he said. "But you will always know me as Nate."

"That I will," I said. "It's getting late, I need to go."

"Well then," Near said. "I guess this is goodbye."

"'Til next we meet," I said softly. "Nate River."

"It won't be long," he said. "I will see you soon, I know it...but please...just call me jackass one more time."

"...Jackass."

He pulled me into one last chilling kiss, caressing the side of my face with his thumb. It was a long, passionate kiss. His lips were dry, but soft on mine. I savoured the way his tongue curled around mine just so. At long last, the kiss ended. I was left reeling, maybe a little empty.

"Bye," he said simply.

He walked out of the warehouse, and I was left alone in the cold. I hunched my knees against my chest, shivering from the freezing temperatures. I felt hot tears starting out of my eyes. But immediately, they started freezing against my cheeks. I was emotionally taxed. I could not believe that I helped catch a mass murderer, who physically and sexually abused me, and then died right before my eyes. And most of all, I couldn't grasp that there was a life after it. I was afraid. Life with L was not always great, but it was all I knew. Everything I ever knew was dead. Destroyed. And now I had to build a new everything.

"Are you ready to go?" was all I heard behind me. I turned, and against the fading sunlight, I saw Mihael, blonde hair obscuring his saturnine face.

I staggered to my feet, walking slowly towards him. And yet, I felt farther than ever from him. But still, I grasped him in a longing embrace. My body greatly welcomed the heat radiating off him. And we walked on, into the sunset, two boats on the ocean ready to drift homeward.

END OF PART 2


	15. Tidal

Blood and Sugar

PART 3

Chapter XV: Tidal

The waves beat on the boat gently, creating a gentle rhythm. I looked out on the gray, hazy horizon. The air was warmer than it had been three months ago in that warehouse, but there was still a little chill in the April air. I sat there, in the old little rowboat, floating a few yards from the shore. Mitchell, my brother, used to take me out on this boat, and we would tell stories, and dream about the future of our lives. I was there on a mission. Many years ago, Mitch had lost a locket he had found in the water, and at the time was unable to swim to the bottom and get it. I was sure this was the spot. I peered over the side of the boat, peering into the gray water. It was glittering with the sunlight peering through the clouds.

I held my breath, and threw my self into the chilly water. I swam down, the salt stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. My hands grasped in the soft sand, until I touched something metal. I rose back to the surface, the air slapping me with cold. I held up the object to my eyes, watching it glitter in the sun. Indeed, it was the same necklace my brother had lost fifteen years ago. I couldn't believe my luck. I fastened the necklace around my neck. It was a simple silver chain, with a heart pendant. I stroked it, feeling the smooth metal in my fingers. Finally, I picked up the oars and began rowing back to shore.

I step onto the white, soft sand on the shore. I pulled the boat up onto the shore, and ran back up the hill towards my childhood home. It was a wooden two-story house, with chipping blue paint. The wooden steps on the porch creaked under my feet. Some would say that this house was in complete disrepair, but as far as I was concerned, it was perfect in every conceivable way. I stepped into the house, tracking sand onto the smooth wooden floors. I looked around the living room, it was dark, and silent. I was startled as I felt fur wrap around my legs. I looked down to see the little stray cat that Mihael and I had adopted. He just showed up one day, skinny and malnourished, and we had taken him in. We had named him Pierre. I knelt down started petting him for a few seconds. Then I got up and walked to the stairs, and started up them. Pierre trailed close behind me, pawing at my feet. I walked down the silent hallway, peeked through the door to the master bedroom, which was slightly ajar. Inside, I saw Miahel sprawled out on the bed, a book in one hand, and a half-eaten chocolate bar in the other.

Pierre sprung through the door, and lept up on the bed into Mihael's lap. Mihael put his book down, and started petting Pierre casually. I stepped into the room, walked over to the bed, and also started petting the little cat.

"Come swimming with me," I said.

"I dunno," he replied dully.

"Please?" I begged. "You never go outside."

"Fine," he said grudgingly. He set his chocolate down, and got out of bed. Pierre lept off the bed and rocketed out the door, and for the kitchen. Mihael reluctantly followed me down the hall, down the stairs, and out the door. The wind made my wet t-shirt and shorts stick to my body. Mihael stripped off his own shirt, tossing it onto the porch. I lightly grabbed his arm, coaxing him down the hill and down to the shore. I stepped in the water easily, but he put his feet in and immediately stopped.

"It's cold," he complained.

"It's fine," I said. "It's not so bad if you don't dilly dally around."

I tugged on his arm, and we waded out until we were chest deep in the water. I snuggled up close to him, and he latched on, more for the body heat rather than affection.

"I love this place," I said.

"It's nice," he agreed. "It's quiet."

"This is my own little corner," I said. "I threatened my dad that I would run away if he sold this place."

"Where are your parents?" he asked.

"Last I heard," I said thoughtfully. "Sweden. We don't really communicate much. My mom...well, she's crazy, and my dad hated the fact that I was with L and didn't pursue a big money career. We used to come here in the summer, but we stopped going when I was sixteen. My dad wanted to sell it. But I said that I would run away if he did, so he didn't. And then, when I turned eighteen, he gave it to me as a present. Although, I think he saw it as more getting rid of junk he didn't want."

"My parents, as far as I know, were alcoholics or drug addicts, or some stupid bullshit," he said. "My father knocked my mother up, they get married, and divorce a year later. The custody battle was so bad I ended up in foster care for a few years. Then, they decided I was gifted or something, and sent me straight to Whammy's House. Best thing that ever happened to me."

"What was it like to grow up a Whammy kid?" I asked. "I've only visited there."

"I got in trouble a lot," he explained. "Because of my ever so famous temper. But it was alright. I had a good childhood, I guess."

"Mine would have sucked if it hadn't been for Mitch," I said.

Later on, the sun was setting, red and orange rays peaked through the clouds. The first trace of stars twinkled in the darkening sky. We lay on the soft sand, taking in the sounds around us. The ocean lapping at the shore, the seagulls calling from a distance, the wind in our ears. I looked over at him, gazing deeply into the sky. I softly touched his face, and fiddled with his wet blonde hair in my fingers. He looked at me with his brown eyes, and lightly grasped my hand. I rolled over on top of him, and kissed him sweetly. He grasped my hair and kissed back tenderly, and wrapped his arms around me.

I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing the next morning. I rolled over and moaned, annoyed that my sleep was interrupted. Mihael was already out of bed. I reached down over the bed to my pants, and took my phone out.

"Hullo?" I answered drowsily.

"Morgan," came a very familiar voice.

"Near?" I said.

"Sorry to call so early," he said. "I tried last night but you didn't answer."

"What's up?" I asked.

"I need you to come to Los Angeles right away," he said. "It's a matter of your own safety."

"Oh really?" I questioned. "What's going on?"

"A serial killer had escaped from prison," he said. "L had captured him around eight years ago. Do you remember the serial killer that killed the little girl named Quarter Queen, and cut off her arm and leg?"

"Yes," I said. "But I fail to see what that has to do with me."

"He's killed six girls," he said. "But there's something about these killings...I can't explain over the phone. I have to show you."

"Can you at least tell me who this guy is?" I asked.

"He went under the guise of Rue Ryuzaki, but his real name is classified. He was from Whammy's house, and he had a very personal beef with L," he explained.

"Wow," I said. "That's interesting."

"I've sent a car to your house, it should be there in a couple of hours," he said.

"How do you know where I live?" I demanded.

"I have my ways," he said. "Does Mello live with you?"

"Yes," I said. "Do you have any objection to him coming with me?"

"No, actually," Near said. "Whether or not he comes, it's completely fine with me."

"I hope you like cats," I said.

"I hate cats," he said grudgingly. "And since when do you have a cat?"

"He came to us in his time of fuzzy need," I said. "I couldn't deny that little face."

"I bet Mello will kill it," he said meanly.

"Mello loves Pierre," I said defensively. "Pierre is a lot friendlier than you."

"Fine," Near said. "I'll make arrangements to accommodate your little hairball."

"Okay then," I said. "I will see you soon, I guess."

I hung up the phone, got dressed, and headed downstairs.

I saw Mihael sitting on the couch, Pierre curled up in his lap asleep. He had a chocolate bar in one hand, and a newspaper in the other.

"I need to talk to you," I said.

"Some crazy serial killer has escaped from prison," he said. "He's killed six girls."

"And that's what I need to talk to you about," I said. "Near has asked me to come to Los Angeles."

"What?" he said loudly. "Why?"

"He says those killings somehow come back to me," I explained. "But he said I would have to come see for myself to find out why."

"Fucking Near," he swore. "What a damn pain in the ass."

"He's already sent a car," I said. "He said it was okay to bring Pierre."

I sat anxiously on the couch in the hotel room. Mihael was seated on the armchair, and Pierre was pacing the room, looking for a house fly he had spotted earlier. At last, the door swung open. Near stepped into the room, Rester right behind him. Near held a key card in his hand, staring blankly and indifferently.

"Hello Morgan," he said. "Mello."

"Hi," I said plainly.

"Near," Mihael said meanly.

Pierre, utterly ecstatic to see a visitor, ran up to Near and started pawing playfully at his feet.

"AUUUGH!" he cried. "It's attacking me! Rester, help me!"

Rester frowned, with an I-don't-get-paid-enough-to-this look. He picked up the excited cat, and held him in his huge hands.

"Sorry," I said. "He's just a kitten. He loves visitors."

"It just mauled me!" he said. "You should have that thing put down."

"Fuck you, Near," Mihael said.

"Anyway," Near continued, composing himself. "Rester will be right next door, for security. But right now, we're going to the morgue. I need to show you the bodies in order for you to understand the caliber of the situation."

Mihael and I followed Near and Rester out to a black car. We sat in the back, all the way to the Los Angeles morgue. Upon arrival into the building, you could tell it was a morgue. The place was lined with metal panelling, and it was all lit with a dim florescent light that tinted everything slightly blue. There were no windows, and the floor was wet. Near led us to a part in the back of the building, and had Rester open six of the refrigerated drawers. We were given gloves, to avoid contaminations. But the sights were rather appalling.

The first girl, Victoria Johnston, was strangled with a dog collar. After her death, the killer had dyed her hair black, and curled it with a curling iron. The second, Marie Varetti, was also strangled, had her dyed black, but her hair was almost all burned off from what looked like hot rollers left it. The skin on the scalp was badly burned as well. The fourth, Alexz Best, was shot in the head; but her hair too was also dyed black. It was still left in rollers. The fifth, Darla Schwartz had been poisoned using a high dose of tetodotoxin. She was a woman of colour, so her body had been bleached, and her hair then dyed black like the others. He hair had traces of chemicals that were consistent of a perm kit. And the sixth had been drowned. Eva Rosenthal. She had a collar that looked like it was made just for her neck. Her hair was, like all the others, dyed black, but her hair was naturally curly.

"All the girls are around the same age, body type, and all were sexually assaulted after death," Near said. "But no traces of semen or DNA evidence have been found. Are you seeing the connection now, Morgan?"

"Yes," I said. "They all look like me. He's creating 'dolls' of me, it looks like."

"Exactly," Near said. "They are just toys to him. Imagine how excited he would be to get his hands on the real thing."

"Oh god," I lamented.

"So who is this sick freak?" Mihael demanded.

"It's B," Near said. "He was before our time, so we never met him."

"I heard about him once," Mihael said. "He was a sick fucker, from what I heard."

"He escaped from a maximum security prison about six weeks ago," Near explained. "He persuaded some guards to help him."

"Persuaded?" I said. "I don't think a prison guard is going to willingly let a convicted serial murder out."

"B is the kind of person who gets into your head," Near said.

"Just like someone I know," I shot at Near.

"So far, he's left no clues as to his whereabouts or anything," Near said. "But I'm sure, as he gets closer and closer to his real prey, some will start to surface."

"So, you want me to sit here, and be bait?" I asked.

"I don't like this," Mihael said. "We might as well serve her up a silver platter."

"Think about it," Near explained. "Have her under protection here, or back in that seaside house, unprotected, and cut off from the world? I've filled in the gaps, Mello. Nothing will happen to her. I would about die if anything did."

"Shut your mouth, Near," Mihael said. "You only care about your personal interests."

"Don't be so sure," Near said. I could tell Mihael was getting very angry.

"Maybe we should go," I suggested. "If you're done, Near."

"Okay," Near said. "Rester will take you back. I'll stay here and keep working. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Upon returning to the hotel, I could tell that Mihael was completely wound up. Whether it was anger at Near, or at B, or anything, he was very tense. I decided to try and ease his temper a little bit.

"I know just the thing to calm your nerves," I said playfully.

"Oh really," he said, his voice tensed with anger. "I don't think it's possible."

I grabbed his face and pulled him into a hungry kiss. I slowly massaged his shoulders, making him groan lightly against my lips. His hands moved to my back to take off my shirt, but I promptly shoved him, very hard, until he landed on the bed, his face in shock.

"Take it off," I ordered. "Take it all off."

"I just tried to but-" He whimpered.

"Not me," I said. "You. Take all your clothes off. You're my bitch tonight."

I stood there, smiling, trying not to laugh my ass off, as he stripped himself of his clothes. I only took off my underwear from under my skirt. I approached him and shoved him back onto the bed. I climbed on top of him, pinning down his legs with my body. I took his member into my hand, watching him almost tremble in anticipation.

"Beg for it," I commanded.

"Morgan," he whined.

"Fine," I said coldly. "If you don't want it."

"No!" he cried. "Please."

I started stroking him with my fingers, rolling my thumb over the tip of it. He whined and moaned, squirming and clenching his toes.

"Now the question is, blondey," I said meanly. "Is do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," he breathed.

"You sure?" I asked playfully.

"Yes," he yelled. "Stop teasing me, you bitch."

I straddled him, and placed my hands firmly on his shoulders. I started to ride him slowly, repressing my moans of pleasure to continue his torture. He bucked up against me, moaning and panting.

"You're powerless," I laughed. "Tell me that I wear the pants."

"Not yet," he said.

He grabbed me and shoved me down. He practically tore my clothes as he was pulling them off. He pushed himself into me, holding me down, moving fast and hard. I remained powerless under him...I didn't even hear the door opening.

"Now," he panted. "Tell...me...who...wears...the...pants...bitch..."

"Never!" I cried.

"Oh dear," came a voice from the doorway.

We both froze, and saw Near standing there, with a face of utter shock.

"It's not what it looks like!" he yelled. "She started it!"

"I was going to tell you something about the murders," Near said weakly. "But I think it could wait. I'm going to put a do not disturb sign on your door...although, I could say I'm pretty disturbed..."

"Will you get out of here?" Mihael yelled.

Near stalked out of the room, taking the do not disturb sign and placing it on the handle on the way out. I used Mihael's moment of weakness and threw him down onto the mattress. I grasped his hair and pinned him down, riding him hard.

"...gotcha," I panted.

"...damn you," he hissed.

He tried to push me off, but he was too weak from pleasure. He came inside of me, almost screaming, and struggling to breathe.

"Let's try for two," I smiled. I kept going, harder and faster. He shouted my name, sweat pouring down his face. I pushed myself harder, nearing my own climax, but I tried to hold it back. Finally, he screamed with his second orgasm, and I let my own overtake my body. I collapsed beside him, all the muscles in my body cramping. I was in serious pain, but I felt very gratified.

"Ow," I said. "My whole body hurts."

"I bet Near is writhing in jealousy," he said.

"I think he thought you were raping me," I joked.

"If anyone is the rapist here," he said. "It's you."

I got dressed and limped next door to where Rester was. I knocked on the door, and Near answered.

"Rester is downstairs right now," Near said. "But I'm here, so come in."

I stepped into the room, immediately seeing the contrast. It smelled faintly of lysol, and everything was neat and put away, as opposed to the sweaty, sexy chaos of my own room.

"Why did he go downstairs?" I asked.

"He was repulsed by the sounds of you and Mello having sex," he said plainly.

"Oh," I said, starting to feel embarrassed.

"So I see the fire is still alive between you two," he said.

"Yes," I said defensively.

Near reached in for a kiss. It was soft and simple, but still as chilling as always. But I pulled away from him.

"I told you, Near," I said. "It's over between us."

"Or so you think," he said teasingly.

He kissed me again, stroking my neck lightly, causing me to shiver a little bit.

"I just had sex with someone else," I said. "Very rough sex. I'm too sore."

"Considering that you love him," Near said. "You don't seem to have much problem cheating on Mello with me."

"I just told you no," I said.

"Did you even think about him," he said. "When we made love?"

"I've been trying to forget that," I said. "That was a mistake."

"Trying to forget someone you love is like trying to remember someone you've never met," he said.

"Save your cliches," I said. "I don't love you. I never will."

"Once again," he said. "Always trying to hurt me."

"I've spent the last three months trying to get you out of my head," I said weakly. "So just get out."

"If you can't get someone out of your head," he said. "Maybe they're supposed to be there."

Those chilling lips. They captured mine again, as though they were poisoning me. His hands rubbed my shoulders, as his tongue caressed mine. I broke this kiss suddenly, guilt overtaking me.

"I have to go," I said weakly.

"Guilt doesn't look good on you," he said.

"Leave me alone," I said.

I stormed out and back to my own room. I was thankful to see that Mihael was pretty much catatonic in bed, because I reeked of guilt. I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve anything. I had only now thought of what I had done was cheating.

Cheating. I was a dirty little cheater.

I was just a stupid slut.

I walked into the bathroom, and sat down on the toilet. And then I noticed it; Mihael's razor. I picked it up in my hand, holding it for a moment.

And I cut myself with it.

I made an long cut along my forearm. I watched the little droplets of blood form from the wound. I knew that doing this was stupid, asinine, and immature, but I had to punish myself. I wanted to feel pain that I could control.

I had fucked myself over really bad this time.


	16. Beyond Birthday

Ello. Sorry it's late, and short. I've been busy, and I have a bit of writer's block. It's almost the end : Baaaaw. I got piercings done today, so my ears are deadly sore. I'm going to crawl into bed. Also, thanks to the user who favourited this story 3 MWAH.

* * *

--ACT IV--

Chapter XVI: Beyond Birthday

Running. I was running down the street. The cool air whipped against my tear-stained face. My legs ached, my lungs burned, but I had to keep running. I needed to run away and hide. From what? I didn't know. I just knew I had to keep running. Hide. Now I needed to hide. I ducked into a nearby bar.

_If we stay or walk away, there's one thing that's true; I still love you._

I don't know why I said it. It just slipped out, I could say. But it had been building inside of me, eating at me. I just suddenly broke down and blurted it out.

"I slept with Near," I said. Mihael looked at me. His eyes were wide. I couldn't tell if he was going to hit me or burst into tears.

"What?" he said simply.

"Just once," I said. I could feel panic and tears boiling up inside of me. "I was vunerable...and he got into my head."

"Near always wins," he said. I could hear anger starting to rise in his voice. "Why? What the fuck were you thinking? Why did you let him take the one thing I had that he didn't?"

"He didn't win," I said. Tears broke through, spilling onto my face. "I don't love him like I love you."

"Don't lie to me," he said. I could tell he was trying not fly off the handle. "I know why you did this...it's because I'm not L. And Near isn't either. Well wake up." He glared at me. "There is no L anymore."

"Please," I begged. "Don't tell me it's over."

He didn't say anything, he only grabbed a bar of chocolate. He didn't unwrap it. He just kind of looked at it. I turned away and headed out the door, walking quickly. I saw Near walking slowly down the hall. I approached him, grabbed his shirt and threw him on the ground. He cried out in pain as his head the wall. His toy plane landed with a thud.

"I hate you!" I yelled. "You ruined everything!"

"Ow," he said. "Why did you just assault me?"

"Because you're a creepy bastard," I yelled. "Because you have no shame. Because you tricked me right into bed."

He started getting up, rubbing his head. "I did no such thing," he said defensively. "Did Mello find out?"

"I told him," I said. "I couldn't live with it."

"At least you were honest," he said. "You have a good heart, that's what I love about you."

"Shut up!" I yelled. I started down the hall again.

"Where are you going?" he called after me. "It's too dangerous to go outside alone. You need to have Rester with you."

I kept walking, trying to block him out.

"Morgan," he called. "Don't leave!"

"Shove it!" I yelled back at him.

I picked up the pace, moving into a frantic run.

_It's all around, getting stronger, coming closer, into my world..._

The bar was dark, and smelled from the liberal use of fog machines. All around me, people were dancing, drinking, smoking, or just glued together in wads of people hanging out. I approached the bar, on the far end, and sat down in the stiff, creaky stool. I hung my head low, trying not to be noticed. But it ended up failing; a man approached me. He was holding two shot glasses.

"You look like you need this," he said, handing me the shot glass.

"What is it?" I said. I sniffed it; it smelled strongly of alcohol, predictably.

"It's rum," he said. "It won't bite."

I took the glass, and he nodded at me.

"Bottom's up," he said, smiling.

I lifted the glass to my lips, pouring its contents into my mouth. It was bitter, but satisfying.

"I'm Vance," the man said, setting his glass down on the bar.

"Morgan," I said, ogling at my glass for a second.

"Why the emo-ness?" he asked.

"I think my relationship's over," I said vaguely.

"Ouch," he said. "I think we'll need another round."

"Sure," I said. I figured I'd rather be stone drunk than think about Mihael.

We kept drinking for the next few hours. After ten shots, he seemed to be only slightly buzzed, but my world was spinning around me.

"Ugh," I said drunkenly. "I hope I don't get sick."

"Maybe I should get you a taxi," he said.

"I've no place ta go," I slurred. "I'm not even from LA."

"We can go to my place," he suggested.

"I dunno," I waffled.

"No funny business," he said. "Honest."

"Okay," I agreed.

"Let me help you," he said, taking my arm.

He helped me up and kept me from falling on my face as I wobbled out the door. I could scarcely remember what happened. He helped me into a car, but I was pretty sure it wasn't a taxi. He noticed my confusion.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm cool to drive."

During the ten minute drive, I started to fade from reality, very close to blacking out. He parked the car, but turned towards me. I was very dizzy, the whole world felt like a dream as he climbed on top of me.

"Whaddya doin?" I said, barely able to form a complete sentence. I could feel that he was unbuttoning my shirt.

"Stoppit," I slurred, blindly thrashing and swatting at him. But he pressed himself on me, and grasped my mouth with his hand.

"It's okay," he said into my ear. "Just go to sleep."

Cool air hit me as the car door opened.

"I knew you would be the type to soil my package," came a voice from beside me. There was a sound like thunder, and my slow working mind took a moment to figure out that it was gunshot. Vance fell limp on top of me. I could feel warm blood soaking into my clothes. I moaned and grunted as I attempted to push the corpse off of me, but all my energy was drained as I slipped into unconsciousness.

Pain. Burning. Light hit my eyes, sending a huge shock wave to my brain. I suddenly fell into a feeling of horrible nausea. I groaned quietly as I regained consiouness. I was in a room, that looked like a basement. I felt that my body was immobile, and I looked down. It was a chilling sight. My body was chained to a pole, but my arms and legs were left unrestrained. I groaned loudly, and closed my eyes and clutched my pounding head. I was startled suddenly when a glass was gently pressed to my lips.

"Drink this," came a familiar voice. "You'll feel better."

I grasped the cup with my shaking hands, taking a big gulp of water. And then I opened my eyes.

Hair. Dark, black, messy hair. Sleep-deprived circles around dark, caffinated eyes. The figure before me was thin, and wearing a white t-shirt and jeans.

It couldn't be. He looked just like L.

"Did you like the dolls?" he said.

"B," I whispered. "But you look just like.."

"You are so beautiful," the look-alike said quietly, lightly stroking my hair. "So beautiful when you are frightened."

I took a good look around the room. My stomach did cartwheels seeing pictures on the walls. Pictures of me. One was in the dark, in a bed. I appeared to be naked. And there was a figure next to me. I recognized the dirty sheets as the ones from the motel I had stayed with Mihael in, right after Near had let me go. It hadn't been my imagination.

"Don't fret, my little toy," he said. "It's better that you here with me now. Away from that little blonde ragmuffin. I just wanted crush that little whelp's neck, watching him defile you. I wanted to cut his throat, and bathe in his filthy blood when I saw him put his dirty hands all over you."

"I love him," I said defiantly.

"No," he said. "You love me. I'm L, and you love me now."

"You're not L," I said hatefully. "You're just a cheap imitation."

He grabbed my throat, and clutched it, almost choking me.

"Wash those filthy wench words from your tongue," he hissed. "Cleanse yourself. Become holy, and give yourself to the one you love. Give yourself to me."

"No," I said. "I don't love you."

"Be warned," he said evilly. "If you don't give in...I might have to take you."

He got up, and began to walk out of the room. He walked with the same slouch, the same slow shuffle. I hated it. I hated to see that walk, that hair, that face again. I wanted it to die in my memories.


	17. Heart of a Shinigami

**THIS CHAPTER HAS GRAPHIC SCENES OF VIOLENCE**

DDDD: OMG. I'm really sorry about how late this is. I kept getting writer's block, so I completely shifted gears. In the middle of the chapter, it's going to shift point of view. Okay, it's almost 5 in the morning. Maybe I should like, sleep or something.

* * *

Chapter XVII: Heart of a Shinigami

I opened my eyes to a blanket of black. I shivered, goosebumps rising over my arms with the chill of the cold basement. I hadn't seen B in days - or at least what seemed like days-I had lost concept of time. Seconds blurred into minutes into hours...I was numb. I was dead inside already. I just waiting for him to kill me.

But the door opened loudly, and I heard footsteps. I actually welcomed his presence this time; it was a wanted, though frightening break from the monotony. I only had my dreams and reveries to lose myself into; dreams of endless nights on the beach by my childhood home. I dreamt of Mihael, his golden eyes that shined like the midnight sun. Each day I grew more and more tired, I grew less living every moment.

"You've got a phone call," came the sinister voice. "A Mr. Near would like to speak with you."

My stomach flipped over. I could scarcely remember his face anymore, but I knew that in my desperate state I had to get him to help me. It was still dark, but I could hear his footsteps coming closer to me, and then he pressed a cool, plastic phone to my ear.

"...Hello?" I said quietly.

"Morgan," came the child-like, musical voice.

"Near!" I about shouted. "I need help...I'm in trouble..."

"I am aware of the situation," Near said plainly. "I have the resources to get you out of said trouble."

"Then help me," I begged.

"But there is something you must do for me," Near continued.

"Near," I whined desperately.

"I want you to admit your feelings for me," he said. "And I want commitment. I want to hear that you love me, and I want you to leave Mello."

"Near," I breathed. "Don't do this to me."

"Say it," he demanded.

I knew that if I didn't say it, I would die here. I knew that if I didn't give Nate River my love, I was going to die here. So after a few seconds, I had decided. It was an easy choice in the end.

"I'm sorry," I began. "But no."

"Then like this case," Near said spitefully. "You no longer pique interest."

"That's fine," I said defiantly.

"Bye," he said angrily. He hung up.

B smiled a nasty, toothy smile at me.

"That's conviction," he said. "I can't wait until you are that loyal to me."

I scoffed at him cruelly.

"I have a surprise," he said with jollity.

I was blindfolded and led upstairs like a newborn lamb. I walked like a lamb; my legs were weak. My heart sank when I felt the cool fabric of sheets on a matress. I knew what was about to happen to me; but I resigned myself to my fate. My body belonged to him now. But it was just my body. It's just a shell. Somehow it didn't matter to me anymore.

**Mihael Keehl**

I crept through the dark hallway quietly, gun clenched in my hand. I saw light coming from a room on the right, and I heard a voice. I knew he had to be there, and Morgan too; hopefully still alive. I peered inside, and my stomach pretty much flipped over three or four times. The motherfucker was on top of her, he was whispering things into her ear. She didn't even seem aware of anything. Her eyes were covered with a piece of cloth. She was gazing at the adjacent wall. It was only by the soft rise and fall of her chest that I could even be sure she was alive.

"It seems we have a guest," Beyond Birthday said, now audible. Fuck - he knew I was there.

"Mihael," he said poisonously. "You little whelp. You always ruin everything. You're a worthless little bug. They should have drowned you like the runt of the litter."

I stepped into the room fully. Morgan began writhing slightly, seemingly aware that I was now there.

"Fuck you," I said. "Take your disgusting hands off of her, and I might not blow your fucking brains out right here."

"Language," he said. "If I can't have this one last thing of L's, then nobody will."

My eyes widened as the sheen of metal caught my eye. He gripped a large knife in his hand, poised only a few inches from her chest.

"It's your choice," he said. "Leave, and she will live. If you make one movement with that gun of yours, I will carve her heart out right here. So think carefully; save her life, or take it?"

I remained frozen in place. Fear froze in my veins. I had to come up with a plan quickly.

I decided to just leave, like he asked, and she would live. There would be other chances to rescue her, as much as it sickened me to leave her in the hands of this sick asshole another second.

"Kill him," Morgan's voice came at me suddenly. "If I have to die, so be it...Mihael-"

"Shut up," Beyond said, clasping a hand on her mouth. "It's Mihael's choice. Hush, not another word out of you, or you will be punished."

"Look, B-" I began.

"Don't you try to reason with me," he spat. "You came charging in, ready to kill me. So figure out what is more important to you. Killing me, or preserving the gift that L had left you, up until now."

His hands stroked her body lightly, breathing heavily, with a sick look in his eyes. My hands clenched the gun tightly, soaked with sweat. At my movement, he raised the knife.

"Perhaps you are not taking me seriously," he said. "Perhaps I should demonstrate how serious I am."

He drove the knife into her shoulder. Screams erupted around the room, shattering shrieks of pain ripping from Morgan's lungs. With every scream or whimper, he would twist the knife, moaning, as though he were having sex rather than stabbing someone.

"Fucking stop it!" I screamed, my gun flew up to aim at his head.

"Save her life, Mihael," he shouted evilly. "Save her life or take it! Choose now!"

"Save it!" I shouted desperately, throwing my gun to the floor. "I will leave, just stop hurting her!"

Silence hung thickly in the air. The gray atmosphere of the room was overshadowed by the deep red of blood soaking the matress of the bed, her clothes, and his.

"That would have been a good choice," he said. He withdrew the knife slowly from Morgan's flesh, evoking a whimper from her. Blood dripped from the blade onto her face, mixing with the sweat and tears already there.

"I know you would only come back for her. That would have been a good choice if you hadn't forgotten that I'm a liar."

Screams again erupted into the air...but this time they were mine. My lungs burned as I screamed. The knife dove deep into her heart this time, blood exploding from the wound. Adreneline filled my brain, and my body. In one motion, I had swept up my gun and begun firing. He yelped, falling off the bed, the knife falling to the floor. He screamed, grasping at his side, where the bullets had ripped into him. I smiled sickeningly, and picked up the knife.

I stabbed him in the gut, and in the legs several times. I shrieked as I reaked my carnage upon him. My body filled with pleasure with the screams of his pain. My skin felt warm, soaked with his blood. At last, I pressed the knife against his neck, and promptly tore his fucking throat out. He choked and gurgled on his own blood for a moment, and died. I stared at his destroyed body for a moment. No remorse. No sympathy. I felt gratified. Validated.

My murderous trance was brought to an end with the sound of labored, shallow, quivering breaths behind me. I rushed over, leaning over Morgan's broken body. I removed her blindfold. Her once deep black eyes were gray. Her skin was ice cold, and white as a sheet, a stark contrast to the bright crimson staining her lips. She softly whispered my name, and her shaking hand reached up and grasped my hair.

"Morgan," I said in a low tone. "Just...just hold on, I'll get you to a hospital."

"It's...it's over," she choked.

"No," I shouted. "Don't you dare fucking say that! Don't you fucking die on me, you bitch!"

I grabbed a blanket, and quickly but gently wrapped her body in it. I carried her, running as fast I could, but I could not move fast enough. Time was slipping away, her life was slipping through my fingers.

I placed her in the passenger seat of the Porsche I had rented. I threw myself into the driver's seat, and hammered the gas. Minutes kept passing, and she began slipping in and out of consciousness. I ripped into the Emergency pick up and drop off. I jumped out the car, not even turning it off. I grabbed Morgan and ran into the ER, frantic and bloodstained. I knew I looked like I had done it to her, even though most of the blood was B's.

She immediately taken into surgey, and hours passed. I paced, watching the clock second by second, wanting to just break things and scream, but somehow I managed to keep my composure. At last, a woman in green scrubs approached me.

"This girl in the O.R., Morgan Keehl, are you here for her?" she asked.

"Yes," I said immediately. "I'm her husband."

"Oh," she said gravely, as though she wished I wasn't.

"Well?" I asked frantically.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"No." I said immediately.

"Your wife didn't make it, the knife punctured her main arteries, she bled to death before we could repair them or give her any blood," she said.

"No fucking way," I said.

"I'm sorry sir, I know this a horrible shock," she said sympathetically. "But you need to talk to the police, and let them know who stabbed her."

My brain was numb, but somehow managed to register one fact: I had just killed a man. I basically tortured him. I was going to go to jail. I had to run...but I had second thoughts. My life was basically over. My best friend was killed months ago. And now...Morgan...was dead. But something in me had the will to live.

"Of course," I lied. "But...can I please have a moment..?"

"Sure," she said. "Whenever you are ready. Oh, and I got this off her body, I thought...you might want it."

She handed me Morgan's silver heart locket. I grasped it. It felt cool in my hand.

"Thank you," I nodded.

She smiled sweetly and walked away.

My legs carried me out of the hospital with the very meaning of haste. I hot-wired a BMW and tore out of there, onto the interstate. I didn't know where I was going. I just drove for hours, until I decided that I had to switch cars. I noticed an old car on the side of the road with a "For Sale" sign on it. Nobody would miss this car. It was a Chevy Geo. Not fast, but it was discreet. This car had the keys already in the ignition. I started it up, but a sight made me nearly piss myself.

...There was a shinigami, in front of the car.

I jumped out, still high on rage and adrenaline, ready to fight.

"Hey, Hey," the huge creature said. "No need to get violent on me. My name is Ryuk."

"Hey. My name is Mello. Fuck you," I said.

"You have what I've been looking for for weeks!" he said, with sly chortle. "I've been chasing you for hours. I'm beat. Why do you have it now? Why not that other girl, who found it...What's her name, Madeline? Marilyn? No, no...OH! It was Melanie!"

"Morgan, you fucktard." I growled.

"Oh," he said. "What ever happened to that broad? I still remember when she decked Raito. That was awesome."

"She's...dead," I said. "She was murdered."

"Holy shit," he said. "That locket can't help with human weapons, I guess."

"What the fuck are you on about?" I hissed.

"That locket is special," He explained. "It's full of shinigami magic. That's the heart of a shinigami. It's one thing to look the part, but this gives a shinigami his powers. As of right now, you are immune to the deathnote. Also, you can travel to the shinigami realm, and to Muu."

"Muu?" I said.

"Muu is nothingness. It's where humans go when they die. It's not a physical place, you can't physically go there," he said. "Only a human's conscious goes. But shinigami transcend physical existence, so every part of us can go."

"What would I find in Muu?" I asked.

"Depends on who you tune in to," he said. "You could go and see your little girlfriend, I guess. Wait, actually I think she was Near's girlfriend. I saw them making out. He won't be too happy about his girlfriend, he he."

"Shut up," I clenched.

"It was pretty hot, for two humans," he continued, trying to piss me off. (It was working.) "That kid looks like a kid on the outside, but from the way he was pawing her, he must be a freak in bed. Telling from the conversation, she would know."

"Will you shut the fuck up?" I shouted. "Morgan was my fucking wife, you asshole!"

"Oh, so you're swingers!" he chortled. "Who did you get to screw? ...Ooohhh, she strayed, I assume?"

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Just once. Near is a persuasive asshole."

Ryuk chuckled and scratched his unnatural anti-grave hair.

"I kinda need that locket, though," he said. "Some shinigami lost it years ago, and he's offering a huge reward for it. Like, three dozen apples."

"Fuck no!" I said. "Not after that shit."

"Fine," he said. "I'll tell you what. Maybe I can help you retrieve Morgan's consciousness from Muu. It's against the rules...but I fucking love apples. I've thought about fucking an apple before."

"Okay, that's really nasty!" I shouted. "And also, how will she come back to life if her body is basically destroyed? And it would be pretty fucking weird if she just suddenly woke up in the CITY MORGUE!"

"I'll take care of it," he offered. "And also, when retrieval is done, all corporeal wounds are healed. It's against the rules because humans who are retrieved and were killed by the deathnote take their lifespans away from the shinigami that killed them."

"Fine," I said. "We have a deal. So how the fuck do I get to Muu?"

"It's easy," he said. "Tune your thoughts into somebody, and then just sort of...I dunno, fall asleep. Like being in a coma, or something."

"Okay," I said. "Let's do this shit."


	18. Blood and Sugar

**Bucket on the Head:** Thanks for the kind words, lawl. I know this girl trades partners more than square dancers, but all that nookie has a purpose, I promise.

She's a lucky bitch. I wish I was getting that much action.

--

Chapter XVIII: Blood and Sugar

I opened my eyes to a wide field of white. I was lying on sand; white sand. The landscape was glowing with a new sunrise. I stood up, and licked my lips; it wasn't sand. It was...sugar. I looked around me. It was a beach. The sugar-sand was endless, only fading into a clear ocean. I realized where I was. I was in Muu. And with any luck, it was Morgan's Muu. Ryuk had given me the simple task of making her realize that I was real, that she was dead, and to will herself to come alive.

"Hello mystery!" came a female voice from behind me. I turned to look; it was her. Her full, rich black hair swung in the breeze as she walked. She was dressed in loose white gown that showed off all the planes of her body. I bit my lip softly. She approached me, smelling like the ocean.

"You came," she said. "I'm so glad. We're going sailing today."

"Morgan," I stammered. It was the combination of seeing her, animated, moving, and the fact that she looked breathtaking.

"This isn't real," I said softly.

"Of course it is," she said with a smile. "Let's go sailing!"

"Who is going sailing with you?" I asked, confused.

"Mitch!" she said cheerfully. "He's come home from his work in Worcestershire to come sailing!"

"Morgan," I said softly. "Do you know who I am?"

"I have seen your face," she said, almost childlike. "Your hair glows like sunshine."

"Don't you remember me?" I asked.

"Yes, I just don't know where," she chuckled. "You're a little mystery."

"Do you remember this?" I asked. I gripped her hips. She protested a little, but she went limp as I kissed her. Even in this dream, her lips were soft. I ran my hand through her beautiful hair and lightly stroked her arm.

"Mihael," she said against my lips. I smiled sweetly.

She started to kiss me back, slowly. I slid my tongue through her teeth, and I savoured the feeling of her hot breath in my mouth. I felt heat pooling in my groin...she was intoxicating.

"Make love to me," she whispered in my ear.

The heat intensified, and I felt an erection coming on. I reached for the shoulders of her dress, I pulled at them desperately, while kissing those soft lips hungrily. And then I realized what I was there for.

"Wait," I said, moving my arms back to her arms. "We can't do this right now."

"Why not?" She whispered seductively. "Your pants are telling me you want to."

"I do," I said. "Believe me. I have a huge boner right now." No lie.

"Then make it with me," she whispered, and then nibbled my ear lightly. Fuck it, I hate it when she use the secret weapon.

"I'm not supposed to," I explained. "This isn't real. Don't you know? You're dead."

"Fuck reality," she said. "I want you. I love you."

I felt like I was losing control of my limbs. Ryuk had warned me that it was possible I could come to believe that Muu was real, and my body would die from being catatonic and not eating, and I would be stuck there forever. Although, given the company, it didn't sound so bad. Could I just stay here forever? After all, I had killed a man, I had a serious problem on my hands. But I knew I was fucked when she got on her knees and started unzipping my pants. There was no way I could say no to THAT. Come on. That was not even fucking fair.

"You know, this one time...I can't remember his name...he was a very evil man. He made me do this once," she said. My eyes widened and I backed away.

"Wait, what?" I asked.

"Yes. He hurt me, and stood in front of me, and told me to suck it," she said plainly.

"What the fuck? Who? When?" I shouted.

"It was the boy with the notebook," she said. "He beat me up, one time. You remember that. It made me lose our baby."

"You...what...?" I stammered. She had mentioned the idea of being pregnant many months ago, but it never came up again. And now I knew why. Raito Yagami had more blood on his hands than I could imagine.

"You never told me," I said. I could hot tears in my eyes. Fuck. "You never told me you lost the baby. You never told me that he did that to you."

"I figured it would have hurt you too much," she said, still in a weird trance.

"Did Raito..?" I started. I didn't want to say it. "Besides what you mentioned before, and what happened at the hotel, have you done anything sexual with Raito, consensual or otherwise?"

"Well," she began. I didn't like where it was going. "When I first got to Japan, Misa invited me to her place for dinner. I was suspicious of Raito, and he was hitting on me, so I played along. I took some drugs so I wouldn't really remember it."

"...remember what?" I asked. I knew I wasn't going to like the answer.

"I let him have sex with me, that one time. Before we were together," she said, still so glazed over.

"Why?" I asked. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Why would you do something like that?"

"Because, I wanted to know whether or not he was Kira," she said.

"So you slept with him?" I said, nearly hysterical. I tried to compose myself.

"Yes," she said. "I didn't enjoy it though. It still haunts me to this day."

"What about Near?" I said. I knew I was going to regret it, but I had to know.

"He would call me all the time," she said, smiling. "He would talk dirty to me, and it would kinda creep me out but it was also kind of exciting."

"...He called you?" I said. Another secret.

"When it happened, I was really scared," she continued. "At first, I tried to get him to stop, but he wouldn't, he just sort of persuaded me."

I stepped back. I felt a sick feeling in my core, like my heart was going to throw up or something. She hid everything from me. I knew what I was. A crutch. I had no reason to believe anything she said anymore. She was poison. Morgan Blackthorne broke my heart. Way to go, Morgan, you really had me going.

I stared listlessly at her.

"Are you ready to go home?" I asked.

"Where is that?" she said.

"You're dead. This is Muu. I'm retrieving you."

"What?" she said. "What happened to me?"

"Beyond Birthday killed you," I said. "And because I'm an idiot, I decided to bring you back."

"Oh..." she said simply.

"Okay, now you know it's not real, we can go back now." I said, biting back the rage.

**Morgan Blackthorne**

My eyes hurt. My limbs felt like they had all fallen asleep. I opened my drowsy eyes, and found myself on a hotel couch. I was alive. I couldn't believe it. But then I looked, and saw Mihael staring out of the window. His eyes looked red, and puffy. Like he had been crying.

"Mihael?" I croaked drowsily.

"I know everything," he said. I could hear anger in his voice. "Every god damn thing you've been hiding from me."

"What?" I said slowly, fear drumming in my guts.

"I know about Raito, about the baby, everything." he said sharply.

"Mihael," I started. But I didn't know what to say.

"Why?" he asked, the volume in his voice raising. "Why? Tell me why the fuck you hid all this shit from me?"

I just stood, trembling, not sure of what to say. He approached me, and his angry eyes looked into mine dead on.

"Why?" he shouted. "Just tell me fucking why!"

"I don't know!" I shrieked.

I didn't see his hand coming onto my face, I hadn't realized it happened until I felt the sting on my cheek. I touched my hand to the stinging skin. He'd hit me. I trembled for a moment. He still had his hand raised, but he was wide-eyed in horror at what he'd done.

"M-Mihael," I quivered.

"We're damaged goods," he said, his voice low and tremoring. "I think maybe we should separate for a while."

"No!" I screamed. "No! Please, god no!"

"I just hit you," he said softly. "You have a hand print on your fucking face."

"Hit me again if you want," I pleaded. "I deserve it!"

"Don't say things like that," he said.

"Please don't leave me!" I screamed. "I love you!"

"I love you too," he said. "I think I love you to the point where it is no longer healthy."

"You promised you wouldn't leave me alone!" I cried.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

He left. He left without a sound. I think I may have just stood there for hours, staring at the door. At last, I stumbled to the bathroom. I found that Mihael had left his spare razor heads. I did it without thinking. I turned on the shower to cold, took the razors, and stepped in, fully clothed and all. And after a few tries, blood exploded from my wrist. Reality faded out and all I could see was a flash of white.

**Nate River**

I had a bad feeling when I found the door to the hotel room still ajar. I had an even worse feeling when I saw the bathroom door open, heard the shower running, and no signs of life. I saw her, sitting there, drenched, her eyes rolled back. Blood flowed down the drain. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I pulled her out of the shower, relieved to hear her weak moan- life. I cried for help while I put pressure on her wounds. Lidner and Giavanni were there on the double, helping me stop the bleeding, and wrap her in blankets to warm her up. I couldn't understand why she had decided to kill herself. And where was Mello?

I noticed the handprint on her face. I immediately felt a pang of anger. Mello never took care of his possessions. It was futile to think he would take care of his wife. Thankfully, hospitalization was uneccesary. She was unconsious, but breathing, and her body was warming up, as we drove her back to where we had set up base in LA.

I watched her sleep, for hours, maybe. Not touching my action figures (they are NOT dolls) or dice or anything. Maybe it made me a "creeper", or a "jackass". I didn't care. I just wanted her to wake up...and eventually, she did.

"Morgan," I said quietly to her. She stirred slightly.

"Morgan," I said a little louder. She groaned and opened her eyes.

"Near?" she croaked softly.

"Yes," I said reassuringly.

"What the fuck? What am I doing here? You left me to die!" she yelled at me. I wasn't surprised at this outcome.

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. That was horrible of me, and selfish. I'm glad you're alive."

"I'm not," she said, in a melancholy tone.

"Why did you slit your wrists?" I asked gently.

"Oh, your dream come true," she said spitefully. "Mello left. He hates me."

"That's it?" I questioned.

"I have no one else. Mello is gone, Matt is dead, my brother is gone..and L is too..." she said. "I'm not going to live my life alone."

"You don't have to," I coaxed. "You have me."

"That's about as good as nothing," she said hatefully.

"Give me another chance," I begged.

"For what?" she asked.

"Think back to that morning in the hotel room. That's what," I said.

"Oh, a cheap fuck?" she said.

"No," I insisted. "You never listen to me."

"Then explain," she spat at me. "What do you want from me?"

"I want to be with you," I said. "Legitimately. As equals."

"Equals?" she asked softly.

"You and I can be L together," I said. "Because you are brave, and smart, and...I love you." I was surprised at my own tone. I knew logically that my feelings were legitimate, but saying it, out loud, gave me a strange feeling.

"You are so young, Near," she said. "I am nine years older than you. You're a minor. Having relations with you is illegal."

"I don't care!" I insisted. "I don't want anything less than you."

"Near-"

"Shut up."

I leaned up onto the bed and kissed her soft, warm lips. There was no fight this time. She kissed me back, right from the get-go. I was so entirely shocked. I grasped her cold hand - I was surprised to find that my hand was actually a little bigger than hers now, in the last months I had had a growth spurt.

"Get some rest, love," I said, and kissed her forehead.

At last I had her, I had everything I wanted. I had won.

--

Writing as Near and Mello is really weird. It's fun, but it's hard to think like a guy.

Also, I'm so depressed over Mello and Morgan breaking up, but after all that, them sustaining their perfect relationship is too Mary-Sue. She fucks up, she gets consequences. Plus, Mello does have anger issues, so him hitting Morgan wasn't completely a shocker. That Muu conversation with Morgan was out of character for her, but she was in a complete trance state. She normally wouldn't be like LALALALALA RAITO MADE ME GIVE HIM A BLOWJOB LALALALALLALALALALALAAAA D:

I wasn't even planning on bringing Near back into the mix. We get a different side of him now ;

I was originally going to tell the entire thing through Morgan's eyes, but I got so stuck on writer's block, I had to do something different, or else this story would die. No, I didn't sleep last night D: I might have the next chappie today. It takes 4-5 hours to write a good length chapter. (14 took about 10 hours.)

Just some hints: The shinigami and deathnotes will come back into play very, very soon ;D


	19. Another Reverie

Chapter XIX: Another Reverie

**Morgan Blackthorne**

For the weeks I stayed with Near, I was certainly confused. I didn't know what I wanted, or how to protect it. I did have one vague idea of what I wanted. It had long, blonde hair, golden eyes, and lips that tasted like chocolate. I fantasized of him often, when I was alone.

And after those few weeks, I knew what I wanted. I missed him to much not to want him. There was no denial there was something there for Near, but it wasn't enough. It would never, ever be enough.

I stared at my damp hair, and my snow white skin glazed with water in the mirror still fogged from hot water from the shower. My hair now reached my waist. Piles of black curls. Piles of weight, holding me down. I decided to lose the extra weight. I grabbed the scissors adjacent of my right hand, and in one foul swoop, cut my hair up to my shoulders. Mountains of hair fell away from my shoulders, and it seemed that the first time in years I could really see my face. I smiled. I was actually kind of nice looking.

I didn't know where I was going, but I decided to dress up like I used to. I grabbed a baby blue Dior dress. It was from 2005, not exactly in season, but it was my favourite. I slipped on a pair of white wedge heels. I applied make up for the first time in weeks. Light blue eyeshadow, brown eyeliner and mascara. My hair bounced in light curls with its new found weightlessness. I'd forgotten how vain I had used to be. I liked it.

I snuck out the door without any notice. I wasn't sure where I was going, or why. But not for long. When I saw it, knew exactly what I was doing.

I saw a flash of gold hair flare from under a black motorcycle helmet. It caught in the wind, slapped against the owner's scowling face, and fell back onto leather-clad shoulders. I bit my lip furtively. I could feel my tongue dancing hotly behind my teeth. I followed him, almost running, but I was surreptitious about it. All he had to do was turn around and he could have seen me, but he was not exceptionally observant of his surroundings.

I followed him through the parking lot of the motel, quietly up the stairs, maybe only ten feet or so behind him...And caught my hand on the door before it shut closed. He didn't even notice the absence of the slam. I laughed inwardly. Suddenly I felt exposed, vulnerable; it was strange to be in his presence again. I wasn't sure how to get his attention, but I could just stand there like an idiot all day.

"Ello," I said quietly.

His eyes and hair whipped violently in shock. His eyes were red, and swollen, and the scar surrounding his eye and crawling down his neck had begun to lighten. The creases in his face untightened, almost in relief. As though, he had been waiting, looking over his shoulder, just waiting for me to reappear.

"Is...it okay if I come in?" I asked hesitantly.

His head jerked in a nod.

I quietly closed the door behind me, not taking my eyes off the ones staring at me. I slowly approached him. The heat, and the extreme energy radiating off him body was overwhelming. Every detail of his body was fascinating to me; the flat planes of his very developed biceps, the way the ends of his honey blonde hair rested just below his shoulder, and his long slender fingers clutching his helmet with intensity. I felt, that in that moment, if I did not touch him, I would die.

The tips of my fingers grazed the rough skin of his burn scar, down the bridge of his nose, and to his rough, warm lips. I bit down on my own lip firmly. He didn't even twitch; he stayed perfectly still, like a statue. I ran my fingers through his sunny hair. It glittered even in the dim light. My heart fluttered and thumped lowly in my chest; I felt almost nauseated by the intensity of his presence. My palm rested ob his neck. I could feel the hot blood lightly thudding a pulse against my thumb. My other hand touched his cheek lightly and hesitantly, but yearning. The thumb rested on his still lip.

I pressed my body against his own. The top of my head touched his nose; I could feel his nostrils flare slightly, and his chest rose with a deep, heaving breath, inhaling the scent of my hair.

Like a phantom, he vanished from my touch and reappeared on the other side of the room, slouched against the sofa, his eyes locked to the ground.

"Mihael," I coaxed.

His eyes locked mine. I stared at the red rings surrounding them, harsh and angry.

"How has anything changed?" he said slowly. "Why are you even here?"

"Everything...has changed," I said. "For years, I carried around as this...baggage. It's like I had a suitcase for everything. A bad childhood, death of my brother, and then, all of this Kira stuff, it was just more and more."

"How has this changed?" he asked.

"I was selfish," I explained. "It was always about me. It was always about my feelings, always about what I wanted. I kept going off on all these stupid paths, and neglecting the obvious road."

"Paths," he repeated.

"They all," I hesitated. "Lead back to you."

"I was always yours," he said softly. "But are you mine?"

"You are now," I said softly. "Body, mind, and soul."

I jumped at the sound of knocking at the door. The energy was suddenly sucked from the room. Without a word, he walked towards the door, and opened it. I walked into the bathroom, and closed the door slightly, leaving it only slightly cracked. I stared at myself in the mirror. My pale skin glowed like a ghost in the fluorescent light. Slowly, I undid the buttons on the back of my dress, and slid it over my head. It fell lightly to the ground. I observed my my body in the mirror. WIth less hesitation, I discarded my underwear onto the floor. I felt cold, and exposed, without a stitch of clothing on. I grabbed a white, scratchy towel and wrapped it around my body.

I stepped out of the bathroom; Mihael was still talking to what looked like the owner of the Motel. Apparently, he had seen me following him, because he was cracking jokes about a "lady caller." I snuck past him, out of sight, and sat down on the firm, squeaky mattress. Mihael murmured one last time at the strange man and closed the door slowly. He approached me, his eyes glued to the floor however; it took him a moment to realize my lack of clothing. He stared at me, wide-eyed, and stopped just a foot in front of me. I released my grip on the towel.

It fell to my ankles. I shuddered, feeling the heat of him against my own bare skin. I grasped the sides of his face with my hands, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs. His arms locked on to me suddenly, grasping at every part of my body. I kissed him hard and hungrily, gnawing his lip lightly. One of his hands gripped my hair lightly, while he broke my kiss, and grazed lips over my face, down my neck, and up to my ear. He lightly nibbled my earlobe, and sucked my lips in a slow, wet kiss.

I slowly reached for the fastenings on his shirt, but he gingerly grasped my hands.

"...I don't have a condom," he explained.

"Well...maybe..." I stammered. He seemed to understand what I was thinking.

"Are you sure?" he asked, surprised.

"Yes," I said, with surprisingly little hesitation.

He leaned down on top of me on the bed. I brushed a lock of golden hair behind his ear, smiling slightly.

"I love you," I said softy.

"You don't know how long I wanted to hear you say that," he said quietly. "Years."

He kissed me slowly and gently. I slid his shirt off his well built chest, admiring the firm planes, even the ones still marked with scars. I attacked his pants, and then his underwear, until we were both naked, revealed completely to each other. He kept his face buried in my hair, while he made love to me. I kept my eyes locked on the ceiling, but I couldn't focus on anything. My surroundings were a blur.

Our bodies shuddered with climax. We released a simultaneous breath, breathing in deep each other's scents.

"Let's go home," I whispered.

"Fuck LA," he added.

"But...I don't know if you'd want to," I began. "I want to see my parents. They don't know anything about this."

"That's a sudden change of heart," he said, with raised eyebrows.

"I have a feeling the story isn't over, either."

END OF PART 3


	20. The Family Blackthorne

Blood and Sugar

PART 4

Chapter XX: The Family Blackthorne

We approached the large, wooden double doors of my parents' house. I hesitated; should I knock? Or just let myself in?

"I have to warn you," I said. "My mother has Alzheimer's. She's sort of trapped in a perpetual world where I'm eighteen."

"Well that should be interesting," he chortled.

"Not really," I replied.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

My old home was pretty similar to how I left it. Antiques everywhere. I stepped through the entryway. I found my mother sitting on the couch, in her bathrobe. She hadn't aged well; her eyes were lined with deep, purple circles, and her face was covered with lines and wrinkles. Her pin-straight black had lines of gray weaved through it, and it was a tangled, gnarled mess. She was pure Chinese blood.

"It's about time you came home," she snapped. "You've been gone for days."

"It's been about four years, actually," I corrected. "I'm twenty-five."

"Always making up stories," she quipped. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"This is my husband," I explained. "Mihael."

"So you were off getting married," she hissed. "Wait till your father hears about this. What would Mitch say?"

"Mitch is dead, mother," I said. "Where is dad, anyway?"

"You shut your little mouth. Don't talk about your brother that way!" she yelled. "Your father is in his office."

I stepped through the long hallway, not stopping to admire all the fancy antiques and paintings. I leaned into the last door on the right. Indeed, my father was sitting at his desk, reading through some papers. just like I remembered. His curly red hair was neat and trimmed. He hadn't really aged; just a few lines here and there. I leaned in the doorway, not knowing what to say. Mihael stood cautiously behind me, looking at the extravagant niceties my parents had accumulated. Suddenly, two blue eyes burned a hole in me.

"Morgan?" came his deep voice. He eyeballed me over his glasses.

"Hi," was all I managed to say.

"Come in," he said, still surprised. I was also surprised. He never invited me in, he usually told me to go away. I took a seat in a cushy chair near his desk.

"You can come in too," he gestured at Mihael. Mihael nervously took a seat next to me.

"It's been years," my father said. "What's been going on?"

"I don't even know where to begin," I said, surprised at his interest.

"Well, try your best," he said gently.

I proceeded to tell him everything. The death of L, my encounters with Kira, being married, and now my plan to become pregnant. Throughout the conversation, his face fell lower and lower, and eventually his face was buried in his hands.

"I know you don't believe a word of this," I added.

"No," he contradicted. "That's too horrible of a story to make up."

"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing what else to say.

"So that young man you were dating...killed by Kira...who assaulted you..." he grunted. "Dear god."

I bit my lip anxiously.

"Morgan," he began. "I know your mother and I were not the most observant parents in the world in regards to you, but I can't believe, that as a father, I could allow this to happen."

"It's not your fault," I said.

"Yes it is," he said grievously, and bowed his head.

"Dad," I said slowly. "I wasn't exactly the easiest child to raise." I laughed inwardly.

I opened the ancient, partially rusted doorknob to my childhood bedroom. It hadn't been touched in the years I had been gone...or at least that's how it appeared at first. I caught a mild scent of fabric softener. It radiated from my sheets and all the old clothes in my closet. Somebody had been washing my clothes and bedsheets, probably on a regular basis. Something large caught the corner of my eye; my old harp. It had been dusted...I approached it, and plucked one string. A perfect C rang through the air. It was even tuned. Someone was very obsessive about my room.

The dying sunlight illuminated my green walls with a yellowed glow. My bed was tucked away in the corner like it had always been, its black sheets and oriental-looking bedspread perfectly made up. The pale beige carpet was still dotted with drops of oil paint from old paintings, which were tucked away in the opposite corner to my bed, dusted and neatly stacked. My desk was the same lightly messy way it was, stacks of journals and sketchbooks piled all over. The candles there remained unlit. Black curtains shielded my window. I certainly had an odd taste in colour as a teenager.

I scanned through the books in my black bookcase. Catcher in the Rye, Canterbury Tales, Edgar Allen Poe, and Great Gatsby were just a few. I'd read all of them at least twice. I took the Great Gatsby off the shelf, stroking the leather-bound cover lightly with my fingertips. I opened it the last page and recited the last line softly to myself.

"And so we beat on, boats against the current, born ceaselessly into the past..."

"I was never much of a book person," came the familiar voice behind me. I turned to see Mihael standing behind me, sort of nervous, like he didn't quite belong there. He did look strange in the scene, but he did belong there, in my opinion.

"I can barely read," he added.

I smiled sweetly. "I loved books. Everybody in my school thought I was weird for it."

"Morgan," he began hesitantly. "I know this sounds weird...but...could you read to me?"

We laid down the bed together. I snuggled myself under his arm and rested my head on his shoulder. I flipped the book to page one.

"In my younger and more vulnerable years," I read. "My father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since."

_I can feel you all around me, thickening the air I'm breathing..._

The halls of Whammy's house felt cold and hollow at night, as though as soon as the sun had set, the unforgiving horizon drank up all the light and the warmth. It was going 2 AM, and all the doors were shut, silent, all but one. Light leaked through the cracks, streaks of yellow brilliance against the sheets of black. I pressed my ear gently to the door, and I heard the soft thump of music vibrating against my ear. I knew whose door this was; it belonged to Mello, a young, rebellious, and somewhat angry teenage orphan. My fingers instinctively clasped the shiny brass handle. Despite the fact that in reality it was freezing cold, heat flamed into my skin, burning across my palms and down my digits to my fingertips. Slowly I applied pressure to the handle, turning it down. I pushed open the door, and stepped through a portal of warmth and light. As I shut the door behind me, I felt luminescent, alive.

He stared at me, golden-brown eyes wide and focused at me. He sat at the end of his bed, hands loosely folded in his lap. A small stereo emitted a smooth, but still rough thump of some nondescript rock music.

"Glad to see I'm not the only one who can't sleep in this place," I said softly. In a drowsy fog, I approached him like he was magnetic. I couldn't seem to feel my legs. It felt more like I was floating. I sat next to him, my eyes half-closed, swaying softly to the music. Somehow, I fell backwards, and curled up on his bed, falling asleep. I felt numb as sleep began taking me away; I couldn't even feel light grazing of fingers down my arm, or warm breath on my hair...

_You've been given love, you have to trust it..._

I stared blankly at the words on the page. They all seemed to be running together. I just recited what I saw. Mihael stared intently at the print, following my words, capturing the meaning of the story.

"They were careless people, Tom and Daisy," I read. "They smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made…"

I put the book down and rested it on my lap. My throat throbbed from talking so much. He stared at me, silently inquiring as to why I had stopped reading. My fingertips grasped the side of his face, pulling him down onto me into a smoldering, capturing kiss. I nibbled his lip lightly, tasting his tongue with mine. When I finally let him go, his eyes were glazed over in a breathless trance, looking through a window.

"I love you," I said quietly. "But I can't read anymore, my throat hurts."

"Oh," he breathed.

"If you want," I offered. "I can play you something on my harp."

"Okay," he said, still glassed over.

"I must warn you though," I said, lifting my self reluctantly from the soft mattress and towards the harp. "I haven't played in a long time, and it's going to suck."

I sat down in the stool perched behind the harp. I put the large instrument in D major, sharpening my f's and c's. I balanced it on my shoulder, and instinctively my fingers found the beginning notes to the Pachebel Canon in D major. Music flowed from my fingers, but not without mistakes, of course. But I was surprised at how well I managed to play it from memory. After I struck the last chord, I let it ring for a moment, and then lifted the harp from my shoulder and balanced it on its foot.

"How was it?" I asked.

"Awesome," he said. "You look like a fucking angel playing that thing. It was torture watching you play that, with the moon all shining around you."

My face pinkened a little bit. "Thank you."

I laid down next to him, setting the book lightly on the floor, and curled up next to him, closing my eyes. I slipped in and out of sleep, and finally sank into it for a more long term slumber.

_4 months later_

I stared at the small bump on my stomach with a contented sigh. It was a weird feeling, being pregnant. I never saw myself as a mother, but I was happy nonetheless. But inside, I had a sort of dreadful feeling. I sensed some sort of danger, although things had been calm. I was alone in the beach house, now gazing at my harp that I had relocated from my childhood home. I played regularly at this point, often just making up songs to go with the sound of crashing waves, songs I played only once. The sky was a deep, dark blue, just after sunset, and sprinkled with glittering beads of light. It was rather chilly outside, it was November. But the heat was turned up and it embraced me like an invisible blanket.

But suddenly, the familiar feeling of dread racked my mind. Mihael had gone into town to do some errands, so I had to fend for myself. And then- a dark figure appeared in the window. I recognized it; it was not human. It was a shinigami, the same one I had seen the day Raito had died.

"Long time, no see," the creature said, stalking through the window into the light. His white skin still glowed pale and sickly. The tall, lanky monster was unchanged.

"Haven't you made a life for yourself here?" he said, in sort of vicious tone. "And I see we're expecting. Isn't that sweet?"

"What do you want?" I asked defiantly.

"The blonde kid has a debt that is long overdue," he hissed.

"What debt?" I asked, confused.

"The necklace," he said. His alabaster finger touched the skin on my chest lightly, and then played with the silver heart necklace. I shuddered at the cold touch.

"I want it," he said hungrily.

"It's mine," I said firmly.

"Actually, little girl," he hissed. "It's not. It once belonged to a shinigami who was looking for it, but that shinigami has died, lazy bastard. A new shinigami needs it. An old friend of yours."

"What?" I questioned.

"You'll see soon enough," he chuckled. "Sooner if you just hand it over."

"No," I answered.

"Don't make me take it from you," he warned.

I gripped the pendant tightly in my hand. I thumbed the smooth silver lightly. It still felt cool, despite being enclosed in the warmth of my hand.

"I can't give this to you, Ryuk," I said.

"You are bold," he chortled. "I will give you that. But what you need to understand is, that the shinigami world is changing. I can't say that I like it, but I am in no position to question. This new shinigami has taken all the power from the king. In return to spare his life, the new shinigami wanted claim as king, but the king has refused...and now the old man is bound, living out what little lifespan he has left in prison, no access to a deathnote."

"Who is this new shinigami?" I asked.

"Raito Yagami," he said with a hiss.

I froze in my spot, gnawing feverishly at my lip.

"I will have his wrath, then," I said defiantly. "Give me six months, Ryuk."

"You dare to bargain with a shinigami, without possession of a deathnote?" he chuckled.

"No," I said, squinting my eyes. "I'm telling a shingami what I am going to do."

"You are brash, girl," he said, surprised.

"Call me what you want," I said through clenched teeth. "You will wait six months."

"I like you," he laughed. "Fine. New shinigami have a year's lifespan to start with, he can wait. I assume you want me to wait so you don't endanger your child?"

"That's right." I replied.

"Very well," he laughed. "I will see you then."

I watched him fly into the moonlight, his laughing echoing through the night.


	21. Reprisal

Chapter XXI: Reprisal

I awoke to screaming. It wasn't mine. It was a familar voice screaming next to me, right next to me, in bed. I sat up and looked at Mihael. My eyes went wide with shock. I bit my lip nervously; his face was pale and sweaty. His blonde hair was damp and stuck to his cheeks. His eyes were clenched shut, and he was screaming. I nervously touched the back of my hand to his face, and the screaming stopped. He shot up in bed, panting, his eyes now open and vivid.

"Are you okay?" I tried nervously.

He kept looking straight ahead into darkness, as his breathing evened out.

"Mihael?" I asked.

He looked at me, now taking heaving breaths.

"I don't want you to do it," he said.

"Do what?" I asked. I had a feeling about what he meant.

"What you said to the shinigami. About going to face Yagami," he said. "I can't let you do it."

"He can't kill me," I said. "I have the heart."

"There are other things he could do," he said. He turned and grabbed my shoulders.

"Don't you remember the hotel?" he said.

"Of course I do," I said.

His hands fell from my shoulders, onto the matress.

"How can live?" he said, tensed. "How can you just go each day with that part of you?"

I knew at that moment, that he knew what I had felt. He knew somehow, and I had a terrible feeling why.

"Did something happen to you?" I asked nervously.

"It doesn't matter," he said.

"Of course it matters," I said. "I love you."

"It was years ago," he said. "In..one of my foster homes."

"What happened?" I asked. I petted his shoulder lightly, hoping my touch would comfort him enough to get him to confide in me.

"The father there," he continued. "He had his poker buddies over. They made me take off my clothes...fuck. I can't tell you this."

"Please," I begged. "I want to help you."

"You can't," he growled. "Don't you understand? The only way you could help me is to kill them. Fucking kill them."

I tried to wrap my arms around him, but he pushed me back. It wasn't violent, but still aggressive. He got up out of bed, and started walking away.

"Mihael," I started.

"I need some air," he said.

I wanted to chase after him, but I decided against it. I decided to give him some space for a while. I rolled over onto my back, staring into the darkness.

Slowly that darkness grew brighter with yellow light filtering in through the window. I could hear the songs of birds, and the lapping of waves. I climbed out of bed, and put on a huge sweater and my maternity jeans on. I stepped out into the living room, and I saw him. He was sitting on the couch, staring at the beams of sunlight that criss-crossed the floor and illuminated his bare shoulders.

"I was ten years old," he said. He seemed to have sensed my prescence. "Every Friday, they would have poker night. The foster 'father' and his friends would sit aorund drinking, and they would sometimes mess with the little girls. Touch them. Of course I wanted to help them. But I always too afraid. But one night, they were going to rape my foster sister...her name was Caroline. She was twelve. She was basically my best friend before I met Matt. I walked into the kitchen when I heard her screaming. One of the guys was on top of her, some of the others were holding her down, trying to rip her clothes off. I wouldn't let them do it. I ran in there screaming, punching them. I didn't do much damage, but it bought Caroline enough time to get away."

I sat down next to him, watching his face. His eyes were red, swollen, and wet.

"She did get away," he continued. "But they were pissed off. They started hitting me and kicking me. And then they told me to get up, and they told me to take my clothes off. They all started taking their pants off, and then they took turns raping me."

I could barely breathe. Being a rape victim without knowing another one was lonely. I had never considered once what he had been through. I had complained about my neglectful mother, or my father who never seemed to care. But he had had no one. Everyone who was supposed to care about him and take care of him betrayed him. I felt selfish. Somehow, that list could also include me. I had been unfaithful and untruthful to him.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. My voice trembled.

"It's not your fault," he said.

"I've been such a selfish bitch," I said. "I was the only person you had, and I betrayed you by cheating with Near."

"Morgan," he said. He turned towards me, and looked me in the eye. There was no anger.

"You're still here," he said. "You always come back." I slowly wrapped my arms around him in a tight embrace.

"I love you," I said. "So much."

"I love you too," he said, returning the embrace. I rested my head on his shoulder.

"I'm not good enough for you," I said.

"You're perfect to me," he said.

"What are you talking about?" I said. "I've fucked up so much. I'm far from perfect."

"But you care," he said. "And like I said before, you're still here. All of that is what makes you perfect to me."

I flinched slightly as I felt a squirming sensation in my lower abdomen. I released my grip on him, and touched my stomach.

"I think he moved," I smiled.

"You think it's a boy?" he asked.

"If I'm only four months along, and already this fat," I said. "It's a boy."

I was suddenly startled by the blaring ringing of my cell phone. I got up and stepped towards the kitchen, and picked my phone. A restricted number; I already knew who it was, and I was dreading it.

"Hello?" I said slowly.

"Morgan," came that singsong voice. What timing. Fun time with Near.

"Oh," I said hesitantly.

"Lidner saw the most interesting thing last week," he said. "She saw you, in London, in a maternity store of all places."

"Don't play games," I said.

"How far along are you? It was really polite of you to run away and get knocked up after I saved your life," he said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," I said. I didn't want to respond to his biting remark with any sort of kindness, but I knew I did owe him an apology for ditching him.

"Which man do you run off to now?" he said meanly. "Who's the new crutch?"

"The baby is Mello's," I said.

"Oh, I see," he said, practically laughing. "He took you back. I guess you ran out of canidates."

"Shut up," I said. My sympathy was running short at this point.

"I'll give Mello credit though," he said. "He should see pretty soon what a mistake he's made. He'll see what an incredible bitch and whore he's chosen for a wife."

A cold feeling rushed through my stomach. I'd never heard him call me names like that. It actually hurt.

"Actually," he continued. "I don't think you've slept with any of the Japanese taskforce yet. Just do me a favour, and fuck Matsuda first, he really needs to get laid."

I hung up.

I stared at the phone. I couldn't believe the lashing I had just gotten. I had half expected Near to just keep trying to get me to be with him. And then my phone rang again.

"Hello?" I said nervously.

"Is this Morgan?" a male voice asked. He had a slight Asian accent.

"Yes," I said. "May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Matsuda, from the Japanese taskforce. I worked on the Kira case," he said.

"Oh," I said.

"All the evidence from the Kira case has been processed. It's my understanding that you lived with L?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Well, the rest of the taskforce and I are going to be closing up the property this afternoon," he said. "I thought you might like to keep some things."

"I would," I said. "Thank you."

"Okay," he said. "Well, I suppose I will see you later, then."

"Yeah," I said.

I hung up the phone. The timing was rather ironic, and Near probably engineered that way. But my mind was also pressed with the impending task of facing something that had been living within me for so long.

------------

I trodded up the stairs to the apartment, with Mihael close behind me. He was concerned, especially at my lack of talking the whole two-hour trip. The door to my old home was already open, the lights were on. I stepped inside. The place was how I had left it before leaving for Japan; dishes still in the sink, untidy magazines lying around, and the phone off the hook, sitting on the coffee table, where I would wait whole nights just for a two minute phone call from L. Even though I knew his full name, I had always called him L, because when I was in college and had just begun dating him, I had borrowed his laptop without asking first. He got pretty flustered when I mentioned the "L" screensaver. It was one of the first clues to his secret life.

It was strange. At this point, I was unsure why I had fallen in love with him. I was unsure why I had chosen to come. Perhaps it was an inner desire to be reminded. I stepped into the place, turned the corner, and stepped towards the bedroom. I didn't look in any of the other rooms; the only one that interested me was the one where I had shared precious few intimate moments. The bed made my heart jump, because it was how I had left it. The blankets were askew, pillows wrinkled and ruffled. I looked behind me; Mihael had neglected to follow me. I appreciated the fact that he respected my silent request for privacy.

I laid down on the matress. The cool sheets raised goosebumps on my arms. I inhaled the scent on the pillows; his side sitll smelled like him. It smelled sweet, like sugar. I touched it desperately. I wanted him to just walk in the room. For a fleeting moment, I wished that everything was like it was before, but it was safe. It wasn't different. I just wished, that one more time, he would walk in, impromptu from one of his 'business trips', and just look at me for a moment, slouched and tired looking, and I would run up to him and smother him with everything I had.

I blinked back tears. I knew what it was that made me love L Lawliet so much. Despite his seemingly indifferent attitude towards me, I lived for those rare gestures of affection. I lived for a fleeting touch of my hair, I lived for those long goodbye embraces, I lived for the kisses that I didn't intiate. I finally understood why he hadn't said that he loved me when he left for Japan; he wanted me to hate him. to think he couldn't care less, so that if he died, I wouldn't hold on. But I couldn't let go. Even when I got together with Mihael, or had that brief affair with Near, I never let go.

I reached for the drawer on my end table. I opened it slowly, and withdrew the several dozen sheets of paper and spilled them into my lap. Notes and letters, from when he was away. Most of them were nondescript and uninspiring at first glance. But I found the one. The one that led me to Japan, that started the irreversible chain of events.

_Morgan,_

_I miss you. Things are not going well, but I may come by to visit if I can. I'm sorry I haven't been able to call you. I never say this enough, but I do love you, and my bed is so much emptier without you in it. Sorry, I'm not very skilled in emoting._

_Stay safe._

_Yours, _

_L. Lawliet_

I could barely breathe rereading this note. I remember I had read it once, dropped it, and started throwing clothes into my suitcase. But this time I savoured it. I savoured every special line, every tiny blot of ink on the page. The old feeling of pain swelled up and manifested itself into tears, and into sobs. There would be no more notes, no phone calls. No more goodbye embraces, no more kisses. Everything I had lived for was gone, its fate had been written in the pages of the deathnote.

I knew what I had to do. There was only one way to remove or at least quiet this piece of me. There was only one way I could let go. Previously, I had thought it a bad idea, but perhaps it was neccesary. I thumbed my silver locket thoughtfully. I floated off the bed, and shut and locked the door. I had to get L Lawliet out of me.


	22. Unclosing, Part 1

I know it's a couple days late. The last two days have been crazy busy. But here it is! This is a sort of two-part section. Enjoy.

Chapter XXII: Unclosing, part 1

**Mihael Keehl**

There were no sounds to be heard from the other side of the bedroom door. I knew that she wanted privacy, but it was a little disconcerting that the door was shut and locked, and there was nothing. No crying, no shuffling, not a thing.

I planted myself on the couch in the living room. It looked like it was barely used. I didn't feel like I belonged there. This was her world, and it had been L's, too. Not mine. But somehow, she blended into mine perfectly.

_Will we ever, end up together? No, I think not._

There were a lot of things that I was questioning. But the most prevalent of those was what to do about this woman, here, with me, with a group of filthy criminals. The obvious path would be to get her home safe, but given her involvement with Kira, it probably would not be safe at all. The only thing that would let me rest easy was keeping her close to me. Not just for her safety, but for my own selfish reasons.

There were only a handful of people I gave two shits about in this world. One of which was Roger, simply because he was the only one who didn't seem to think I was an angry delinquent. No, he thought I was an angry genius. I guess I cared about L on some level. He treated me as a friend. I was the only person in that house besides Watari who ever saw him face to face as L. I had an idea of why he approached me. It was the only other person I cared about.

I never wanted to care about her. I wanted to hate girls. But unfortunately for me, she was not a girl. She was a woman. And for some god damn reason, she had to take a liking to me. She never treated me like a child. I was a friend, and somehow a protector. As time passed by, I grew to care about her more and on a level that at that time I was not willing to admit. Who falls for their mentor's lady? Not a good person.

A good person would not have looked at her like I did. A good person would not have secretly fantasized about their friend's girlfriend. A good person would not have mauled said deceased friend's girlfriend like an animal. But I am not a good person.

The moment was dreadfully awkward. She stood there and offered me a "hug". I don't fucking hug. She knew that. But it was partly my fault. I had gone and said that I cared. And if that wasn't shameful enough, what I did next was truly scandalous.

I remember leaning in very close. I had no idea what I was doing, but I just remember slowly getting closer and stopping just millimeters from her face. She was staring at me, like she knew. Like she wanted it. She certainly wasn't saying no. Her hot, frantic panting against my face was driving me crazy. So I broke. I grabbed her neck with my hand, and captured her lips. I believe I stopped breathing in that moment. I had thought about it many, many times, but the real thing was a million times better. I went too far. I knew I would. A good person wouldn't have done what I did.

I pushed her against the wall, and just started rubbing myself against her. I never wanted to have someone so much, but I didn't get the chance. Not until the next night. I had been an asshole to her all day, but I was feeling confused, and ashamed. I wanted her to not want me, so I wouldn't have a chance to lose control again. But she always came back. Even when I made her cry. I never felt such a sick feeling of guilt in my core. I knew that I had to say it. I had to admit it to myself, and to her, and just say it. I told her that I loved her. I felt lighter suddenly. Like a deep, dark secret was now hers to bear as well.

Good people don't do what I did next. Only selfish people. But that's what I am, deep down, selfish. I laid her down on the bed under me. I knew what I wanted to do. I could have had sex with any girl I wanted, but I didn't want them. None of them were interesting to me. None of them inspired me like she did. None of them could ever paint the vivid pictures she put in my head. I had gotten a taste, and I needed more. Her pale, soft skin was just too inviting. While it was happening, I could only hear music in my head. Like the soft, melodic laughter of a harp, in combination with abounding white noise. The words that I had admitted to myself and to her now echoed in my head, like a constant a chorus.

I love her. I love her. I love her.

_It's never to be become, for I am not the one._

----------------------

**Morgan Blackthorne**

I opened the door, feeling drowsy. I walked out into the living room, to find Mihael where I had left him, sitting on the couch. His eyes were poised in concentration. My mind was still fuzzy and sleepy, but what happened next thrust it back into reality.

The door of the apartment blast open, and Matsuda fell on to his knees, panting, and frantic. I heard the dim sounds of police sirens gradually growing louder behind him.

"Oh god," he panted, practically in tears. "I-I'm so sorry."

"What?" I said. My stomach dropped with a pit of bad feeling.

"This...this was a set up..." He gasped. "Near...he's coming for you...he's very angry. He wants your head. Oh god...I'm in so much trouble...they're going to kill me for tipping you off!"

"You?" I practically screamed. "What are we supposed to do?!"

"Run!" he screamed, his hands on his head, grasping at his hair.

"She's pregnant, you idiot!" Mihael screamed at him. "I swear to god, I'm going to kill you!"

He grasped his head harder, and broke into desperate sobs. He reached into the pocket of his jacket, and dropped a ring of keys onto the floor.

"Take my car," he shuddered. "It's around on the other side of this building. You can't go home. They'll find you."

I reached down and picked up the keys. Mihael leaped up and firmly, but not violently grabbed my arm in a sort of protective display.

"Thank you," I said.

He grasped the carpet of the floor and shook with more violent sobs. Mihael and I flew down the stairs of the building, and ran around the side of the building. Using the car's horn, we located Matsuda's maroon Honda. Mihael started out of the engine and tore out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" I asked, eying the mirrors for police cars.

"Airport," he said. "We have to leave England. And we can't go to Japan or the States."

"Slim pickings," I remarked.

"Thank god for L's inheritance," he said.

He parked the car in the long term parking lot. He kept his hand around my wrist as we walked towards the building with haste. As we entered the busy airport, we inspected the flights that were leaving almost immediately. Most of those went to the States. But there was on that caught my eye.

"Bucharest," I said.

"Romania?" he asked. "What language do they speak there?"

"Romanian," I snickered.

"Shit," he said. "There are a lot of languages that I can speak, but that's not one of them."

"Let's not worry about it right now," I said. "Let's go."

As we bought our tickets for the plane, the woman at the check in counter eyed us suspiciously, seeing as we had no bags or carry-ons. She still let us on the plane, however, and after a three and half hour flight, we landed in Bucharest. Mihael got us a rental car; a very nice, black Jaguar. However, the recent expenses concerned me.

"Couldn't Near track us by our bank activity?" I asked, as I fastened my seatbelt.

"Nope," he smiled. "I put all of our money in Swiss bank accounts."

"Oh," I said quietly.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"We're on the run now," I started. "And our baby is due in just a few months. I won't be able to move much. We have to be hidden, completely."

"Of course," he said. "I have it taken care of. I could practically shit money."

I snickered, and said, "I have some money from my family, and from when I used to work."

"You used to work?"

"Yeah, asshole," I said teasingly. "I didn't just sit on my ass all through college. I worked for a fashion designer. Natthia Lunivina. Really talented. I was her assistant. But I quit."

He raised his eyebrow, and said, "It sounded like a great fucking job. I know you love that fashion shit. Why did you quit?"

My eyes fall to the floor, and I bit my lip softly.

"He asked me to."

--------------------

The Romanian sunlight filtered through the white curtain and glazed my face. My hand reached out instinctively for the pillow next to me. My palm didn't land on soft blonde hair, but rather, a sheet of paper. I picked it up, and focused my eyes on the handwriting scrawled on the hotel stationary.

_I had to go run some errands. I'll be back soon, hopefully before you wake up. Don't go down to the breakfast bar, just order in. Don't leave the room for any reason, it's still not safe. I can't risk you being sighted. Don't answer the door for anyone besides the room service guy. Not even the maid. Be safe, love. _

I checked the clock. It was a quarter after twelve. He certainly wasn't back. Just be patient, I told myself. He knew what he was doing. Trying to calm my racing thoughts, I grabbed the phone on the end table next to me and dialed the front desk, and requested two muffins and a basket of fruit. I bit my lip, still wondering what could happen to him...

**Ryuk**

I watched the girl from the corner of the plain white room. She was a divine specimen on humanity. I could see why Raito, Near, and the blonde guy coveted her. She was like a Venus fly trap; attracting the unknowing insects with her brilliant colors, and then consuming them completely. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She coveted one of them, probably consumed with the ridiculous human emotion called love. What a waste. She could fill that seemingly insatiable desire for physical comfort with any little insect. She could be the perfect succubus. With dark, drowning eyes that spewed poetry, and long slender legs that bent like shiny spider legs. Simply divine.

She had something that I needed, something I had to hand over to an old friend. I could just rip it from her neck, write her name down, and be done with it. Or, go with the more brutal route, that wouldn't reward me with life, but more with thrill and pleasure. I could just wrap my fingers around her slender neck, and just snap her spine. It was amazing that such a beautiful predator could be so fragile. But perhaps that was part of her allure. I couldn't destroy such a perfect hunter. Not now. A creature like that deserved a death as poetic as her existence.

I watched her pick up the shining, cerise apple, flay the smooth surface, and take a delicate bite that ended with a wet crack of the severing of the moist white meat. My tongue danced wildly at the thought of the red fruit. I smiled at the approach of the incoming visitor. I laughed to myself as she flinched with the knocking at the door. Slowly, she approached it, like prey, suspicious yet so unknowing. She peeked through the peep hole, and then softly bit her lip. Slowly she opened the door to Matsuda, her next victim. I had never seen a hunt in person. I smiled and watched it unfold.

"Morgan," he panted, out of breath.

"Matsuda," she said, confused. She let him in and shut the door behind him.

"They got him," he said frantically. "The SPK. They captured Mello. I don't know what they're going to do to him, but I know where they're taking him."

She started to breathe frantically, looking frightened. He took her by the shoulders and led her over to the bed.

"You need to sit down," he said. "Just breathe. We'll figure something out."

"We?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Me, and the rest of the task force are going against Near, to help you. Not just for you. But to show Near that he can't force us to do something we morally object to. Not one of us, after learning the whole story, thought you were a bad person."

He sat down next to her, watching her, observing her frenetic hyperventilating. Her heaving chest was working a mile a minute.

"Hey," he coaxed. "Take it easy. Let's just calm down now."

Slowly she brought her shoulders down and got control of her hyperventilating.

"I'm sorry, I just..." she whispered.

"It's fine, just chill."

I began to see the words that were refulging out of her eyes. She tried to resist her nature, but I knew she couldn't. The thoughts had already entered her mind, and she was considering it. It was all too tempting. And her prey was not fairing so well either.

"Whatever happened with Sayu?" she asked.

"We were engaged. It never worked out," he sighed. "At least, not right now. She's so busy with University, but it's her last year..."

"Yeah," she nodded. "College is hectic. I remember...where did Near take Mello?"

"The SPK is holding him in a maximum security facility just outside of town. That little asshole is probably going to send his little friends after me, but I don't give a shit anymore."

"With him, that's the best policy," she agreed.

"There have been whispers...and I have to ask you," he said cautiously. "Did you sleep with Near, on the day we busted Raito?"

She bit her lip shamefully and nodded. "He can be persuasive when he wants to be."

"How did Mello take it?" he asked. He was staring intensely at her.

I could see the guilt washing over her face.

"Not well," she said quietly. "It almost destroyed us. It really hasn't been the same since. That's mostly my fault. I just have so much guilt. It's not something I can take back. It happened. It's on my conscience, forever."

"Did he ever really forgive you?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, and pounded the mattress lightly with her fist. "That's what driving me insane. I deserve to suffer. I just wish he would punish me like I deserve."

"It sounds like you're taking care of that yourself." I smiled as he placed his hand lightly on her knee. "I'm just...shocked that you went that far."

"He said he loved me," she said. "And for one second, I sort of believed it."

"He lied to you, Morgan," his voice was filled with austerity.

"I know," she breathed. Tiny beads of dew formed at her eyelashes. "Sometimes...I just...lose control. Sometimes I just need someone to touch me, and I just want to feel wanted." A tiny drop fell from her lash onto her cheek.

She gasped with a tiny sob, and said softly, "When it's happening...it just feels like..."

"Like a dream," he finished. His eyes were sparkling, drinking up her poetry. And I knew it was time.

**Morgan Blackthorne**

He kissed me. It was soft, warm. Passionate. It felt like a dream within a dream. My breathing was for once, even. I needed to wake up. I couldn't. I felt too deeply asleep to move. I was still, just taking it all in. But I was jolted awake with the soft plop of an apple landing in my lap. I broke the kiss, and almost screamed. How could I? How could I have done this again? After I had just talked about it. I leaped from the bed and sprinted to the bathroom, holding the apple. Ideas of what it was were racing through my head. As I closed the door, I slid to the floor. I gazed at it, and then realized...I dropped the apple to the floor and began to breathe heavily, trying to control it. Shinigami.

I felt a flick of something light on my hand and turned my head. I screamed at the sight of two huge eyeballs. A large, long-fingered hand grasped my mouth, muffling the screams of terror. Ryuk chuckled, and then pressed his weight against me to keep me from moving.

"Poor little huntress, can't escape the big bad death god," he hissed into my ear. I was confused...why was he calling me a huntress?

"I might want to get in on this physical pleasure deal," he said. I knew what he was implying, given my situation. I screamed and fought harder, but it was no use.

"Don't worry little girl," he laughed in my ear. "It was a little joke. Maybe not? Who knows?"

I started to kick the walls, in hopes of attracting attention. It worked.

"Morgan?" Matsuda said through the walls. "Are you screaming? What's going on in there?"

I attempted to scream "shinigami," but my voice was completely muffled. I started giving up. I began to realize that my fear was only getting a rise out of him.

"Well, there's a smart girl," he growled in my ear. "Screaming is so undignified. A brilliant little creature shouldn't succumb so...brutally." He lifted his hand from my face.

"What do you want, Ryuk?" I said as calmly as I could.

"Well," he said, as he reached for the apple. He still had me pinned down. "I was hoping to see some sins of the flesh. But that's not going to happen."

"...you saw that?" I said quietly.

"Yep," he said, taking a huge bite out of the apple. "It was going to be quite steamy, I could tell. But I noticed one little detail. Matsuda's about to die."

"What?!" I yelled.

"Don't make me cover your mouth again," he said. "Here, have a bite." He held the apple to my lips. I sank my teeth in and took a small bite.

"Feel better?" he said. I chewed quickly and swallowed.

"No," I said. "I have to save him. I can't let him die."

"Silly, silly, silly girl," he laughed. "You have to let nature take its course."

"Matsuda doesn't look like he's about to drop dead by any natural causes!" I yelled. He pressed his hand over my mouth again.

"Shhh," he hissed. "I meant human nature. You can't stop death. And don't think about going to fetch him from Muu."

"Why not?" I said through his hand.

"It's not safe there," he said. "Your last little escapade attracted some unfriendly attention. When you went to see your old little boyfriend."

I stared at the ceiling, recounting my experience in my old apartment...but now was not the time.

"I need you to do something for me," I said softly. "You're probably the last person I should ever count on to do this, but you're the only one. I need you to take the necklace to Mello. I know I'm risking everything. I know there's a good chance that you'll take it to whoever you're working for. But if there's any hope of protecting him, I want to use it."

"No worries," he said. "I'll do this for you. I kind of need you to win."

"What?" I asked.

"You'll find out soon enough."

I lay still as his massive hands touched my neck. The cold, bony flesh elicited shudders, squirms, and slight moans.

"Oh, we have a squirmer?" he chuckled. He unclasped the necklace. The cold metal brushed my skin lightly as it came off. He touched my shoulders lightly. Fear was growing inside me, but I didn't protest. He ran his long fingers down my chest, my stomach and down to my knees. I moaned weakly in fear. He smiled.

"You'll find out soon enough," he whispered. And then, got up off of me, and dissipated through the wall.


	23. Unclosing, Part 2

(Author's Note: Yay for new chapter! Diehard Near fans are going to kill me.)

Chapter XXIII: Unclosing, Part II

I apprehensively looked over the brush to see the sandy-colored brick building surround by a rather threatening looking barbed-wire fence. Indeed, the prison was where Matsuda said it would be. Guards were standing at every entry point, armored, and holding large automatic weapons. Even the vent had someone manning it. Even if I got in, there was no chance of me getting out undetected, let alone with a prisoner. Stealth was not an option. I was only armed with a small pistol concealed in my jeans, so I couldn't exactly mow them down. Not to mention I was five months pregnant and a fight would end up with me and my child losing our lives. I began to understand my situation clearly. I could not have everything I wanted. There was only one option; bargaining.

I began to plan on how to get caught. I couldn't try to waltz in through the front gate, because they would just turn me away. I circled the building in the cover of the forest looking for an access point. I saw a large expanse of wall that was unguarded, most likely because I couldn't get into a door from there anyway. I crept quietly forward and kneaded the soil with my hands. It was soft from recent rain. I could dig my way under the fence. I had my plan formulated. I turned around and walked back through the forest for about a mile back to the motorcycle I had concealed under trees. I opened my bag and pulled out a bottle of water and sat down for some rest. As night began to fall, I got back on my feet and headed back to execute my plan.

I approached the fence. I was only slightly nervous. At this point, I was sort of acclimated to danger. I knew there was a chance they'd shoot me on sight, but it was unlikely. From appearances, I was an unarmed civilian trying to sneak in to see a family member jailed. Once they saw that I was pregnant, they definitely would not harm me. If Near was really in charge here, I'd probably be taken to him at his request.

I dug a sizable hole under the fence and began sliding my myself through it. I climbed up onto the soft, wet grass on the prison yard and wiped the mud from my hands. I ran to the wall and moved close to it. I began quietly sneaking to the corner. I peered around the corner and that's when I noticed it; a laundry chute. The guard that was supposed to be watching it was leaning against the wall snoring slightly. I smiled. Maybe my "getting caught" plan should be bumped to plan B. I could get caught rescuing Mihael, couldn't I?

I quietly and quickly dove into the chute. I barely fit, it was quite narrow, but I managed to slide myself through and I descended down a slide and I landed in a large laundry basket. I climbed out into the dark, small underground room. On a rack were several freshly cleaned uniforms. I sifted through them until I found a female guard uniform and slipped it on. I shuddered a bit, remembering how my last undercover mission ended. But this was different. Raito was not yet a threat. I tied back my hair and exited the room. The hallway was well-lit and eerily quiet. I looked across the corridor and saw a bathroom. I ducked inside and inspected myself in the mirror. I still looked like me.

I searched around for anything to hide my traits. I discovered an abandoned flat iron on the counter. I turned it on, and flattened out my hair. I searched around for anything else. I found a purse left on a coat hook. I shuffled through its contents and I found make-up. I took out the foundation. It was slightly darker than my natural skin and it would cover my freckles. I rubbed it over my face and on my arms. I looked quite different now. I placed the purse back to where I found it and proceeded back into the hallway. I walked down to a metal gate separating the corridor from a block of darkened cells. I tried to push it open, but it was locked. I reached into the pocket and withdrew a ring of keys. I tried several before one unlocked the door. I wanted to look into each cell, but it might be suspicious to do so.

I proceeded into a small office and found a book, an index of prisoners and their cells. This was vital information. Now, I knew where to look. I turned pages, looking for Mihael Keehl, Mello, any name that might be his. I spent hours looking, but I found nothing. Frustrated, I turned to the computer. It had an automated index that allowed me to search by name, aliases, crimes, and description. I decided to try my luck with description. I entered "Blonde hair, six feet tall. Athletic build." The search came up with fifteen results. I looked through each name and photo, but none matched him. Finally, I found one last strange entry. It was titled in all cap, bold letters, ORION, located in cell 666. I tried to access the file, but an error message flashed on the screen.

_Classified information. Please enter proper security code. _

Somehow, I knew that if any of these entries was him, that was it. I didn't know what Orion meant, or the obviously offensive cell choice meant. Maybe it was bait for me. Maybe it meant something more. I exited the room and slowly made my way into the 600 section of the building. Cell 666 looked as ordinary as the rest. I inserted my master key into the lock of the door and opened it. I was met with a wall of darkness. I closed the door behind me. I flipped the switch and the room became dimly lit. My heart began beating quickly as I saw my hunch was correct. I saw Mihael asleep on a mattress in the corner of the room. I hurried over and knelt beside him. I touched his shoulder, and nudged him lightly. He groaned slightly and opened his eyes.

"It's me," I quietly. "I'm here."

"Morgan?" he groaned. "Wow, you're good." he chuckled slightly.

"Not good enough," I said. "I don't know how to get you out of here."

"I was careless," he said. "I went to get some weapons, but I was ambushed. I don't know how you escaped them."

"Escaped who?" I asked.

"The police," he said. "Near sent them after you, right?"

"No," I said. "Someone shot Matsuda - he told me you were here- and..." I broke off. "Well, he tried to put the moves on me. But nothing really happened. Then Ryuk appeared, making all these weird allusions."

"That is strange. How heavily guarded was the outside?" he asked.

"I only got in because of pure luck. There were armed guards everywhere." Something in my mind clicked. "But if he was trying to lure me in, he would leave a way for me to get in, and would have let me proceed almost to the end and then spring his trap."

"It makes no sense," he said.

"I know," I said. "How are we getting out of here?"

"We're not," he said. "It's impossible. You need to talk to Near. Get some information."

"You're probably right," I sighed. "I'm just so close, I don't want to leave. I don't know that I can manage by myself."

"You got this far on your own," he said. "You'll be okay."

"I love you," I said. I said it just for reassurance. Just for extra strength.

"I love you too," he said. "Be careful. Stay strong. Don't let him scare you."

I stood up. "I'll be back," I said.

"Good luck," he said.

-------

I approached the metal door to an office. I couldn't know for sure that Near was there. The only sign was a candle outside the door. I opened the door, and I knew my guess was right as I stepped over a toy truck. I closed the door behind me and I saw him huddled in the corner, looking up at me, not surprised at all.

"I know what you're here for," he said.

"You want me?" I said. "You can have me. Just let Mihael go."

"Tempting offer," he said. "But I'll have to decline. He's not going anywhere."

"I'm offering what you want," I said. "I don't understand what you want with him. Isn't he of no value to you?"

"I won't deny that I do want what you offer," he said. "But my priorities have been rearranged. I need Mello. I have a project in the works."

"What project?" I said. "Is this about ORION or something?"

"How do you know about ORION?" he said.

"It was in the automated index. It was a classified file."

"As you know," he began. "We've lost L already. Neither Mello nor I individually have the same capabilities as L. Each generation, we lose more and more. Just selecting the most gifted children in a motley group at an orphanage is not good enough. I plan to preserve, no, enhance the gene pools from which Mello and I originated, by reproducing them, breeding out the defects, exacerbating the good qualities."

"Clones," I said. "You want to clone him?"

"In simple terms, yes," he said.

"Why do you need to keep him them?" I said. "Take some blood or something. Just let him go."

"I can't do that," he said. "This project requires intense experimentation. I need to compare the new specimen with the old."

"You crazy motherfucker!" I said. "I can't let you do this. You're messing with human lives. He's not an object. I can't let you do this to him."

"Morgan," he said. "I'm going to offer you the opportunity to walk away. Walk out of here, forget what you saw, what you heard. I won't come after you. Just...walk...away."

"No!" I said. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Then you leave me no choice but to alert the guards of your presence," he said. "Unless you leave right now, you're going to die. Don't you understand? You've seen too much. They'll shoot you right here."

"Go ahead," I said. I didn't have a plan. I wasn't thinking at that moment. But all thought stopped suddenly with tremendous light and a wave of heat.

----

I opened my eyes, slowly. I was surrounded by dust. Rubble. Where was I? How did I get here? I stood up, finding that I miraculously uninjured. I stepped over piles of debris until I noticed a splatted of blood on a large chuck of the ceiling. I knew where I was. I frantically dug through the rubble and dust. I uncovered a limp, bleeding, nearly lifeless Near. My heart sank when I saw that he had been impaled with three pieces of reebar through the chest and abdomen.

He looked up at me, breathing shallowly. His ghost white skin was stained with blood. It flowed from his mouth and nose, and it covered the upper half of his body. I honestly never thought that a human being could bleed that much. I knew he wouldn't survive.

"The reebar," he gasped. "I'm dead."

"Save your strength," I said quietly. I pursed my lips. I felt hot tears building in my eyes.

"You're sad?" he gasped again. I said nothing.

"Do me one last favor," he breathed. "Tell me that you love me. Lie if you have to. I don't care. Just let me hear it."

"I.." I said quietly.

"Please," he choked out. "I can't...I can't breathe...I can't hang on..."

"I love you," I said. Tears dripped from my eyelashes onto his forehead.

"Morgan," he choked again. "I...can't..."

"Just let go," I whispered. "You don't have to hold on."

One last breath escaped his lips, as well as two barely audible words...

"..I'm scared..."


	24. Near's Heart

*CRAI* Poor Near! The ending of this chapter is so sad. Near may have acted like a dick most of the time, but I also added in a human side. A tender side. ;_; Bawww!

**Chapter XXIV:** **Near's Heart**

I closed my eyes, listening to the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. My fingers hadn't moved for hours. They were lightly closed around Mihael's palm. The doctors told me that he wouldn't walk properly with his right leg ever again, but other than that, he was fine. He was alive. But I still felt a nagging fear still within me. Perhaps it was a lingering fear left over from watching Near die. It was a strange and new experience for me. I had watched Raito die. I had watched Matt die. But watching Near die was strange. He always seemed invincible. But in the moment that he had died, he appeared for the first time, human. I still got sickening chills at his last words.

"I'm scared..."

There were more mysteries than answers now. Who had bombed the prison? What would become of ORION? What was I supposed to do now? How did I end up in this situation in the first place?

I knew what the answer to that question was. Everything came back to L.

There was more impending danger. Supposedly Raito was a shinigami. A human didn't need to have the heart of a shinigami to use a deathnote. So logically, he could kill me any time. But it appeared as though he hadn't yet tried. What was he waiting for? Anxiety was building in me. I felt purely vulnerable.

I jumped as I saw Mihael's eyelids twitch slightly. He groaned lightly and opened his eyes.

"You're okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine. Aside from your leg, you are too."

"Oh," he said, rubbing his thigh slightly. "What happened?"

"A pipe impaled your leg. It shattered the bone and ripped the artery, but they managed to stop the bleeding. But..." I sighed. "You'll have to walk with a cane once it heals."

"Shit," he sighed. "What happened? Who did this?"

"I don't know," I shook my head.

A small pain bloomed in my abdomen. I touched my stomach. It was probably just a gas pain. After a moment it passed.

"You alright?" he said, worried.

"Yeah," I brushed it off. "Just gas."

But as soon as I passed it off, another intense pain ripped through my lower body. I gasped in surprise. At this point, I was scared.

"Morgan," he said, with his eyes wide. "I think you should find a doctor. You're pale."

The pain wasn't ebbing, but becoming more intense. I hunched over, and then I saw the floor. It was covered with blood. I saw that the blood was running down my leg. I felt myself becoming light-headed, and it was getting harder to breathe.

"Th-there's blood on the floor," I gasped.

I felt Mihael's hands take my shoulders, and he was speaking, but I couldn't hear anything. I quickly faded into unconsciousness.

I opened my eyes to bright lights above me. I was numb all over. I was dizzy and my mind felt glassed over. I was lying on my back. There was a blanket over my lower half and my feet were in stirrups. Doctors and nurses were surrounding me. One of them bent over and looked me in the eyes.

"Can you push, honey?" she asked.

"...what..?" I moaned.

She turned her head to the group around the end of the table. "She's unresponsive," she said. "Get the forceps ready."

"What's going on?" I said. I was scared. I felt tears gathering in my eyes.

"She's fully dilated," one of the doctors nodded.

"Okay. Let's proceed. Pam, watch her vitals."

I felt cold metal touch my skin. I was still unaware of what these people were doing to me. I began breathing heavily, waiting for what was going to happen. And then I felt white hot pain tear through me. I screamed, and flailed my arms in fear. Two masked nurses came and held my arms down. They were saying meaningless comfort words to me, but I was scared and delirious, and I felt them hurting me.

"No," I gasped through the tears. "Stop. It hurts. It hurts so bad!"

"You're too weak to push," one of them said to me.

I screamed again as they continued ripping something from my body. I finally realized what they were doing to me.

"What are you doing to my baby?" I screamed.

"We have to deliver," the nurse said. "You're hemorrhaging. If we don't deliver, you'll die."

"Stop hurting my baby," I gasped.

More pain filled me, and I felt something large pass through me. The pain subsided, but I was beginning to black out again. I heard a gurgled cry from across the room. A tiny, bloody creature was wriggling in the doctor's arms. Everyone was smiling. One of them looked me, holding my hand, saying meaningless things to me.

"It's a girl," she said. "Congratulations."

The doctors carried away the tiny person in towels and placed her in a plastic case-like thing, and I lost sight of her.

"Okay," I heard a male voice say. "Let's prep her for surgery."

"Nöelle..." I breathed.

I opened my eyes again. I heard the whirring of a machine next to me. I felt somewhat normal, aside from the pain. I reached down to my stomach and I felt empty. I didn't know where my baby was, or if she was alive.

"You're awake," I heard a voice say from across the room. I turned my head and saw Mihael sitting in a wheelchair. I reached out an arm to him and he rolled his chair over to me and met my embrace. He stroked my hair lightly.

"Nöelle is a beautiful name," he said.

"Is she alive?" I said.

"Yes," he said. "She's very premature. But so far...she's hanging on."

I sighed and smiled. But he wasn't smiling. I touched his face.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Your heart failed," he said. "Spontaneously. You need a heart transplant. They're having a hard time finding one for you."

"Raito," I whispered.

"You're on a bypass machine right now. It will only keep you alive for only a day or two."

"Are there any bodies from the explosion that have anything viable?" I asked.

"The only person who could help you with that," he whispered. "Is Near."

"What?" I whispered.

"They managed to re-start his heart. But it was too late. He's brain-dead. They're just waiting for Roger's word to pull the plug."

"I want to talk to Roger," I said.

He nodded, and rolled his chair out of the room. A few minutes later, a sullen looking Roger stepped into the room. He stayed near the door.

"I need Near's heart," I said quietly.

"I don't know that that is what he would have wanted," he said. "I can fulfill his direct wishes, and he was never specific about organs."

"I need him," I said. "He always wanted me to need him. I know...I know he would want this," I said.

"How can you be sure?"

"Because," I said quietly. "He loved me."

Roger sighed, scratched his head, and finally, he said, "Very well. I'd rather you not die, you've been a friend of the Whammy house for years."

I looked over at the lifeless boy on the gurney next to me. I reached over and touched Near's unresponsive hand. I looked into the light blue eyes on his ghostly face. They were empty. Shallow. I reached with my other hand, and gently closed them. I couldn't bear the thought that he was not in there. I had to believe that he was still there. I held his hand to my face, feeling the warmth. I held his arm, hoping to see a twitch in his face, something. But he was silent. Still.

I pulled my gurney up to his. I draped my arm over his chest. I could feel his heart, still beating. His sacrifice. I reached over, and kissed his cheek lightly and nuzzled it.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Morgan," a doctor said from the doorway. "It's time."

END OF PART 4


	25. Dreams

A/N: HOLY ALMOST TWO YEARS SINCE AN UPDATE! Believe me, I've been totally lost as to what direction to take things. So I decided to move into a new branch for a while, and build on my new lead for a while. No doubt you'll be a little confused but I actually have a new direction. I've been very busy with work and college before that, and now I also write a food blog. I can't promise FREQUENT updates but no more two year gaps!

* * *

Blood and Sugar

PART 5

Chapter XXV: Dreams

**3 Years Later**

**Sawyer Lee Fennely**

_At a higher altitude with flag unfurled, we reached the dizzy heights of the dreamed-up world..._

I remember as I ran, I followed the river through endless fields. As I looked over my shoulder, tears streaming down my bloodstained face, looking upon the burning mansion behind me. The end of Whammy's House.

As the men with the guns broke through the house room by room, Teddy and I hid under the floorboards of our room. Fear consumed our bodies, and it took all the efforts we had to control our trembling. We looked up at their feet and we could also peer into the barrels of their guns. They were aimed at us. Immediately I began to crawl away desperately toward the tunnel in the corner of the room . I looked back once to see that Teddy was still lying still. And the floor exploded as gunfire erupted. Blood flew everywhere, shreds of clothing and tissue were strewn everywhere.

In a state of pure terror I clawed my way into the escape tunnel and kept digging until I saw the trap door leading to the outside. I broke through into the cool night. I look around me, there was nobody. I ran, flailing myself wildly, screaming. Everybody I had known had just been murdered. Every brilliant mind, every voice had been silenced all at once. What had happened?

_There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps, running before time took our dreams away._

I opened my eyes to a silent morning in the tiny London apartment. I was curled up on the dingy couch. I looked over at the chair Thrace was fast asleep on. He was tall and thin, very handsome. His brown hair was usually a little messy. Despite us being badly impoverished, he was always well-dressed. I looked over into the other corner of the room. Caroline was splayed out asleep on the mattress.

I remember stumbling into the city after running for two days. Thrace found me, huddled under in an alley near a Chinese restaurant. He told me to come home with him. He told me that he and Caroline were wanderers, orphaned like I was. They made money pan-handling and pick-pocketing. It wasn't any kind of existence I wanted, but it was the only one I could find. I belonged somewhere now.

I lifted myself from the couch and walked into the tiny bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was thin, my reddish-blonde hair a mess. I brushed through it with my fingers to make it look a little better. I stepped back out and walked to the front door. I stepped out onto the porch and picked up the Newspaper. I read the headline:

"Mass Killing of Elderly Men and Women Baffle Police; Some Suspect Kira"

Indeed, the word was going around about the old and very ill passing away of cardiac arrest much like criminals did. Many people think these were mercy killings. Thrace seemed to think so. He was very opinionated about Kira, he was an avid supporter. It wasn't particularly abnormal, I found out. From the time I was pre-teen, I was taught Kira was evil and had to be brought to justice. But suddenly Kira disappeared, and so did L for a while.

I had my own theories about L. I believed the original L was dead or retired, because honestly, the newest L sounded like a woman. I had never met L. I was only trained to be his successor. I was only surpassed by Near now, as Matt was dead and Mello probably was too. The only thing I wanted to do was find Near.

I heard footsteps on the sidewalk. I looked up. I saw Nathaniel walking down the street. He nodded hello to me. He was tall, with shoulder length blonde hair. He had the most mesmerizing eyes. We had spoken a couple of times. As far as I knew, he lived down the way a couple of blocks. I felt a gentle breeze brush me as he passed by.

"Quit with the goo-goo eyes," I heard a voice behind me.

I looked behind me. It was Thrace.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said.

"Stay away from him," he warned. "He's trouble."

"I think I can make my own decisions," I said. He grabbed my chin gruffly and made me look at him.

"Don't forget I rescued you from that gutter," He said. "Don't make me send you back."

Though Thrace had saved my life, he was endlessly controlling. If ever I wanted to do something against his wishes, he would threaten to put me back out. I didn't have anywhere else to go. He let go of me and went back inside. I followed suit and saw Caroline sitting on the couch, drinking a cup of black coffee. I knew very little about Caroline. Thrace retreated into the bathroom to take a shower and I sat down next to her.

"Thrace caught you ogling your boyfriend, then?" She teased.

"You have to admit, Nathaniel's hot," I said smiling.

"He isn't to me," she said. "He looks like a guy I used to know."

"Who?" I teased. "Your ex-boyfriend?"

"No," she said. "This boy I was in a foster home with. He pretty much saved my life one time."

"Aww," I said. "What happened to him?"

"Dunno," she said. "I ran away and was eventually put into another home."

"What was his name?" I asked.

"Mihael, but our foster parents decided to make it more normal sounding. We called him Michael or Mike."

"Cool beans," I said. "Maybe you'll find him some day?"

"Maybe," she said, looking down at her feet. Her long, dark brown hair fell over her face.

"I'm gonna go find us some breakfast," she said. She got up, slid on her torn jeans and smoothed out her wrinkled t-shirt. She walked out of the front door and I was alone. I took my opportunity and slid out of the door and down the street. I found Nathaniel's house and knocked roughly on the door.

"Who is it?" came his voice from inside.

"It's Sawyer," I said.

I heard the click of locks being undone and the door opened. I stepped inside the house. It was dimly lit and also very small. The walls were lined with records from various classic rock bands. I took a seat a chair in the middle of the room.

"So tell me, miss Sawyer," he said. "How did you come to live with asshole Thrace?"

"Asshole Thrace rescued me off the streets," I said. "Although I'll admit he is an asshole."

"Well that's all well and good, but how did you end up on the streets, because you look like you weren't there very long."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said.

"Try me," he said.

"Okay," I smiled jokingly. "I belonged to an orphanage of super smart children and a few weeks ago some armed men broke the doors down and came in and shot everybody. I got away and ran all the way into the city where Thrace found me. Now I'm trying to find this guy named Near who used to live with me at the orphanage. So believable, huh?"

He looked at me very seriously. "Is everything you told me true?" he said.

"Yeah, why?" I said.

"What if I told you I could get you to Near?"

"I'd say you were batshit insane."

"Wanna hear something crazy from me?" he said. "I'm a genetically engineered intellectual super solider created by Near."

I looked at him and waited for him to laugh. He looked at me as serious as a heart attack.

"What the fuck man?" I said. "That's crazy. You're crazy." I got up to leave in a flurry of discomfort.

"Near is around 5'7" he said. "He's albino and has a preoccupation with toys and puzzles. He's cold and methodical. He would be in his early twenties now."

I stopped cold. I looked back at him. He just described Near to the last detail.

"How do you know Near?" I said.

"I just told you."

"Can you take me to him?"

"Yes, I can, I just told you."

"Well what the fuck? Let's get the fuck out of dodge! I'll tell Thrace and Caroline I'm leaving and I'll be back in two shakes of a lamb's tail!"

"Okay, Eager Beaver," he said.

He flew out of the door and down the street back to Thrace's house. I walked inside and saw Caroline again sitting on the couch, and Thrace standing in the back corner.

"I have something to tell you guys," I said nervously.

"You're gay?" Caroline said jokingly.

"Yeah, but that's not the important thing," I smiled teasingly. "I found somebody who knows Near, he could take me to him."

"Shit," Caroline said. "You're leaving us? Well dude, it's been real..-"

"Wait," Thrace said. "You're taking off with Nathaniel to seek out some guy you used to know who you're not sure even exists?"

My mind started racing. How did he know who I was leaving with?

"I'm for sure he knows Near," I said. "He could describe him with extreme detail."

"How do you know he didn't hear you talking about him to us?"

"He knows things I never told you," I said. "Like, I never told Near was albino."

"You leaving here with him," Thrace said, "is absolutely out of the question."

I backed away toward the door. "I'm eighteen," I said.

"I can leave if I want to."

Thrace began to approach me. A chord of fear struck and I bolted. I made it halfway down the street when I felt a hand catch my arm. I tumbled to the ground. I looked up to see a visibly angry Thrace looking down at me.

"I told you Sawyer," he growled. "You're not going anywhere."

"Back the fuck off, Thrace," I heard a male voice call. I looked up to see Nathaniel standing on the opposite side of me. I got up and stepped behind him.

"You're becoming a pain in my side," Thrace said. "Still delusional with your little theories."

"I'm just trying to prove what we all know," Nathaniel said.

"Believe what you want to believe," Thrace said. He seemed to get visibly calm, almost cocky. "Go ahead and take the girl. If she's too stupid to accept my guidance and wants to go chasing false hope, that's not my problem."

Thrace turned and left back down the street.

"Sawyer," Nathaniel said to me. "Does he know your full name, by any chance?"

"No," I said. "Why? And what was all that about proving what everybody knows?"

"Don't worry about it," he said. "We just have a long standing rivalry, that's all."

We turned away and started down the street. I waited outside as Nathaniel went back inside his house and collected a bag together. I got into the passenger seat of his car. He climbed into the driver's seat. As he started the engine, there was a knock on my window. I turned and looked to see Caroline standing outside the car. I rolled down the window.

"Take me with you," she insisted.

"What?" I said.

"Just take me with you," she said. "I just...I have this feeling. Just take me with you guys, please."

I looked over at Nathaniel. He stared at her face with intense concentration.

"Okay," he said.

She climbed in the backseat. I was completely confused. Why did he willing allow Caroline to come along? And I still didn't understand how he knew Near, or why he had a long standing rivalry with Thrace. I just had a feeling that everything was connected.


	26. Sudden Arrest

Chapter XXVI: Sudden Arrest

My eyes blurred in and out of focus as the street lights flew past us. My sleepy eyes had been gazing out of the window of the car for the last six hours. Everyone had been quiet the whole trip. I had no idea where we were, or where we going. All Nathaniel told me was that he was taking me to see Near. Of course, I had no guarantees that he would actually help me. Near was cold, and methodical. He seemed to think I was okay, at least back then. I was younger than him, only thirteen when he left Whammy's house.

_Is it all a dream? Should I even try?_

I looked around the dining hall. I had just started grade four, and it was decided I was old enough to be housed and interact with the other children. I was given my special name, the name I was to give everyone, to hide my true identity. I was not Sawyer anymore. I was Sylvia. The dining hall used to be an old cathedral, so it was full of marble moldings on the walls and tall, stained glass windows. I stood near the door, looking across all the tables. Most of the children were solitary, though some were in small cliques. I was among the youngest in the room. I looked over in the corner, and I saw a boy sitting on the floor. His hair was white-blonde, and his skin was extremely pale, with no freckles or blemishes at all. He wore a white shirt that was much too large for him, and blue jeans, and socks, but no shoes.

His head was bent over his jigsaw puzzle with concentration. I watched him click each tiny piece in at a precise interval without missing a beat. I was drawn to the cadence of it, and I started to approach him. As I got closer, I saw that the puzzle pieces were mostly white, some had varying degrees of black on them. I could see from the skeleton of the puzzle he had already assembled, it was forming some kind of letter. He looked with intense concentration, quickly analyzing each piece and putting it into its proper place. He had one hand in his hair, twirling a strand between his forefinger and thumb.

As I got close, my foot lightly tapped a toy truck that lay amongst a pile of toys near him. I bent down and picked up the brightly colored toy. Suddenly the rhythm stopped. He dropped the piece he was holding suddenly and his eyes quickly met mine. They were a bright, almost frightening shade of blue.

"What are you doing?" he said. "Little girls don't play with cars." His voice was soft, with a sweet bell tone. It was almost musical.

"Sorry," I stammered. I set the toy down. I expected him to continue with his puzzle and ignore me, but instead, he lifted the half-completed puzzle and dumped the pieces back on to the floor.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Sylvia," I said.

"That's not your real name, is it?" he said.

"Yes, it is."

"Finally, one of you young ones are smart enough to remember to lie about your name and actually commit to it. Most of those kids out there would reveal their true identities on either the first or second question."

"But I'm not lying."

"You just ruined it for me," he said. "I already know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that your name is not actually Sylvia, but it is a moniker selected by the guardians in charge here in this institution. Now your commitment is futile. What's your next step?"

"Umm.." I said quietly. My young mind was having trouble understanding what he was trying to accomplish. But I could understand well enough that he was playing a mind game. Still, I did not know how to answer his question.

"I don't know," I said meekly.

"If your cover is blown, any trust you have established with your targets is now null and void. Trust is the only tool you have to complete your mission. To re-establish trust, I want you to volunteer some information. Are you going to tell me your true name?"

"No."

He smiled. "There might be some hope for you after all."

I squinted at him. His accent was different.

"Are you American?" I asked.

He laughed. I didn't understand why.

Over the next couple of years, I followed Near, shadowing his footsteps. I knew from day one that he was the best. There was another boy who was a close second, named Mello. I never saw him or met him, because he was much older than me and lived in the West Tower with the secondary school children. Near told me a little about him, including a surprising admission at dinner one evening when I was eleven.

"Mello is actually smarter than me," he said. "He's the smartest one here. But he's too emotionless. Too fearless."

"But fear clouds your judgment," I said.

"Fear exists for a reason," he said. "Fear tells us when something is too dangerous or too risky to attempt. Fear is what keeps us out of harm's way. Mello would willingly jump in front of a speeding bus if it got him to a conclusion quickly. I would rather solve the problem in a safer way but less perfectly if it preserved my life."

He picked up two toy robots and set them down, face to face, as if he was segwaying into the next point he was making.

"He's also too emotional," he said. "He's too involved. He's attached to somebody, and that's ruined him. If the person he's attached to is ever threatened, it would take priority over anything. If he wants to be L, the only thing that can matter is winning the game."

Somehow, this statement affected me. I almost felt an aura of disappointment or loss surge through me in that moment.

Over the next year and a half, as I hit puberty and became aware and increasingly interested in sexuality, I would sometimes imagine scenarios, fantasies, about doing physical things with him. At first I was frightened and ashamed, but eventually I had come to the logical conclusion that I was attracted to him, and very emotionally attached. It bothered me to a deep extent, as over the years Near had taught me that attachments were a hindrance and should be avoided. I began to worry that now my intelligence was lessened, I was weaker. But I didn't want to accept it, and I wanted to prove him wrong.

When I was twelve, nearly thirteen, there was a dance held for all the pre-teen and early teen children at Whammy's House. It was a rather uninspiring event. Most of the others were too introverted or too serious to do something as frivolous and silly as dance. Still, I took great care in my appearance before going. I bought a push-up bra from one of the older girls, and took great efforts to smooth out my usually wavy hair. I wore a lavender spaghetti strap dress and clunky black shoes with heels on them. I actually, for once, looked like the other girls my age in the magazines and on TV. I even managed to get a hold of some eyeliner and lipgloss.

When I arrived at the dance, I saw Near in the corner where he usually was. The dining hall had been utterly transformed with balloons and other party décor. It was very dimly lit with a spotlight in the center of the room, designating the dance floor. I went over to his corner. He was wearing what he always wore, and as I predicted, he said nothing of my vanity. I felt as though all of this had a purpose, but I didn't know what.

"I cannot, for the life of me, understand what made the faculty here think that many of us would be interested in anything as ordinary or pedestrian as a dance," he said.

"Roger says that forming human connections is more vital than it is for anyone else," I said. "He says because of who we are and what we're destined to become, connecting with other people is only thing that keeps us grounded."

"Given everything I've told you before, I think you could logically conclude that I think that Roger is wrong."

"Well, I think you're wrong."

He looked taken aback. This was one of the only times he'd ever appeared affected by anything I'd ever said.

"What made you change your mind?" he said. "After all these years of agreeing with me, what's changed?"

"Maybe I changed."

"Nobody changes," he said. "Maybe it's something that's always been there that you never told me? What is it?"

"I'm not going to tell you," I said. "I plan to stick to my position, like you've always taught me to do."

"Are you in love with somebody?"

"No."

"Who are you in love with?" he said. "Your challenging of my opinion has forced me to conclude that you are attached or even involved with somebody. Who is it?"

"You think you're so perceptive," I said, frustrated. "But if you were as perceptive as you think you are, you would already know the answer to that question."

"What are you implying?" he demanded.

"Well, I'm wearing make up and a fancy dress and a bra that's supposed to make my boobs look bigger. We can safely conclude that I'm trying to impress somebody, right?"

"Yes."

"But the entire time I've been here, I've been standing here, just talking to you, right?"

"Yes."

"So if I was here to impress somebody, it's probably because I'm attracted to them and find them interesting and enjoyable to be around. Correct?"

"Yes," he said. "Where are you going with this?"

"But if I'm here to see said enjoyable company, wouldn't one assume I'd be spending time with them?"

"So why aren't you?"

"I already am."

He stopped, looking at me intently, analyzing me like a piece of his puzzle.

"What are you telling me, Sylvia?" he said.

"Near," I said. "Would you kiss me?"

"Wh-what?" he stammered. He usually had a quick, intelligent response to anything I ever said or asked. Now he was speechless. He was a master of anything logical, anything tangible, anything concrete. But now he was stuck over something abstract and illogical, such as the matters of the heart.

"You heard what I said," I said, pressing the matter. "It's a simple question. Would you kiss me?"

"Simple as it may be," he said, "It's not easy to answer."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

"Wow, never thought I'd hear those three words come out of your mouth."

"That's enough," he said. "Considering the monumental proposition that's on the table at the current moment I wouldn't be ridiculing the party you're trying to convince."

"I wasn't ridiculing you, and I'm not trying to convince you to do anything."

"Then what are you trying to do?"

"I simply asked a question," I said. "I didn't ask you whether you were attracted to me, or whether you had romantic feelings towards me. I just asked you to kiss me."

"Do you think I feel for you?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "How am I to know the secrets of anyone else's heart? It's hard to tell because you've willingly spent time with me day in and day out for past three years, but you've never declared me as even a friend to me or anyone else."

He looked intense and almost panicked. I knew he was only deflecting while he considered my proposal. He started to twirl his hair thoughtfully.

"Am I your friend, Near?" I said. "At least answer me that while your thumb and forefinger try to find the meaning of life."

He took notice of what he was doing and lowered his hand nervously. I felt guilty suddenly, because I knew that that was probably a security blanket for intense situations.

"Yes," he finally said. "I will admit that I have found your company to be enjoyable and welcome."

I smiled slightly. Finally, a small victory.

"But," he said abruptly, "I am sticking to my original judgment that romantic attachments are an obstacle to intelligent and rational thinking."

"Really?" I challenged. "Because I've had feelings for you for quite some time now. Have I appeared any less intelligent? Any less worthy of your attention?"

"No," he conceded. "I suppose not."

"Very well then. I'm glad to see we're on the same page then."

"You've won this round. I will give you credit for checkmating my logic."

"So what's it going to be then?" I said. "Are you going to accept my offer?"

He sighed and looked away for a moment. I felt my question hanging in the air between us, so thick, that I could almost reach out and snatch it back.

"Okay," he said finally. "I'll do it. I'll kiss you."

Suddenly, my heart took off racing and I felt myself slip into almost a state of altered consciousness. I slowly took a step forward and he did as well. We were standing now very close, so close that I could feel his body heat radiating into my skin. His hands lightly fell on my waist and mine on his shoulders. I nearly jumped out of my skin with the intensity of such physical touch. I had never felt such intimacy before. My stomach felt as though it was boiling over and when I took a breath, it felt as though no matter how much air I took in it wasn't enough. He moved his thumb lightly, almost like a caress. It sent jolts of electric sensations through my body that made every part of me tingle.

I stared into his intense, voltaic, cerulean eyes, and stepped closer until our bodies touched. The stimulation was almost too much for my brain to process. At last I closed my eyes and our faces drew closer, until I could feel hot breath on my lips. When they impacted, I couldn't help but to take a sharp inhale of breath. It was warm, and soft. I felt doped up on the chemicals and hormones coursing through my veins. I had only been anticipating a small, light peck, but instead it felt as though our lips were magnetized like opposite poles, hopelessly drawn together until a strong enough force could pull them apart. At last, slowly, the embrace came to a close and we parted, the sensations ebbing off. I still felt the high from my own body chemistry affecting me.

For the rest of the night, even after going to bed, I lay awake, and every time I recalled that moment, I felt a small jolt of the sensations move through my body in sweet remembrance.

A few weeks later, everything changed. It was a warm spring day. Near had been called up to the headmaster's office. We had kissed several more times after the dance, although he would not acknowledge me as anything more than a friend. We even explored more sexual touching, though it stayed fairly innocent. Nothing more than a squeeze of my butt or a kiss on the neck.

I waited in the stairwell for him to come down and walk with me to the library as we did every Saturday afternoon. At last I heard the sound of a wood door open and close and I heard the sound of soft, sock-covered feet descend the stairs. He reached where I was in the middle, between flights.

"What did Mr. Whammy want?" I asked.

"I can't talk to you anymore," he said suddenly.

My breathing stopped for a moment. I was shocked. I couldn't believe what I had just heard.

"What?" I said. "Why? Did they say something to you about it?"

"No; in fact, Roger seemed to think it was great."

"Then what?" I said, fighting back tears.

"I was correct in my original theory," he said. "Attachments hinder your ability to move ahead. To win the game."

I didn't believe him, and I couldn't understand why he was breaking it off with me.

"I don't believe you," I said. "Are you just too stubborn to admit that you love me? Too proud? It's pathetic and stupid!" I said angrily. "You're too afraid to admit the truth."

"I am," he said. "So stop wasting your time."

The next morning, I found out that he had left the institution. I never saw him again.

_Please forgive me for the sorrow, for leaving you in fear, for the dreams we had to silence, that's all they'll ever be..._

I felt my weary head press against the cool glass of the car window as we pulled into a gas station parking lot.

"I'll be right back," Nathaniel said, as he stepped out of the car. I watched him disappear into the store. Rain began to fall and form clear, shiny beads on the windshield. Each drop landing with a tiny thump on the car. I looked into the rearview mirror and I could see that Caroline was sound asleep. Nathaniel emerged from the store with a plastic bag in his hand. He approached the car and opened my door. He placed the bag in my lap.

"There's some water and some snacks in there, help yourself," he said. "It's going to be another hour before we get there."

"Where are we going, anyway?" I asked.

"Le Maison de Succession."

"The House of Succession?"

"Yes," he said. "That's where L's successor lives."

He closed the car door. He flipped open the hatch to the gas tank and I heard the sound of gasoline flooding into the tank. I reached into the bag and grabbed a bottle of water and a candy bar. The water was soothing on my dry throat and the candy bar eased the dull ache in my stomach.

After filling the gas tank, Nathaniel got back into the car. We drove off and back onto the highway. After another hour, we came across a small, narrow street that was almost invisible. We continued down the narrow way which took us into a patch of woods. At the end of the street, there was a large estate. It was covered in ivy and at first glance looked entirely uninhabited. But upon further inspection, I could see that it was actually well maintained. I saw a motorcycle parked in a circular driveway in front of the house.

"We're here," he said. Caroline stirred and opened the door and slowly pulled herself out. I too began to step out, but I noticed Nathaniel had not made any movements towards getting out himself. I stood up out of the car, but decided to wait until he had gotten out to shut my door. But suddenly, he reached over and grabbed the door and shut it. Fear struck in me as I saw the reverse lights go on. His car flew backwards back down the drive. My draw dropped in shock.

"What is he doing?" Caroline said, panicked. "Where is he going?"

His car disappeared behind the trees.

"He left us. He left us!" she shouted.

"Who are you?" came a voice from behind us. It was a very familiar voice. It was a man's voice.

"Turn around slowly. I have a gun."


	27. Simple Explanation

A/N: There probably won't be another new chapter before Monday (5/16/2011) as my work week revolves around weekends, and I also write a food blog which is fairly time consuming. But I hope you enjoyed these 3 new chapters. Have a great weekend ;]

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Chapter XXVII: Simple Explanation

My knees began to shake as I slowly began to turn around to meet the stranger's gaze. A shockwave of fear and confusion hit me as I realized that this man looked almost exactly like Nathaniel. His hair was the same sunny blonde color, and it descended down to his upper back. One side of his face was scarred and war torn in appearance. He wore a black leather tunic, with a long trench coat lined with fur. In one hand, he held a cane that was supporting one leg, and in the other, was a hand gun gleaming in the moonlight, pointed directly at my head.

"Get on your knees," he said. "Keep your hands where I can see them or I will shoot you. Now, I want your names."

"Sylvia," I said, shaking.

"Sylvia what?" he said. "A first name doesn't tell me anything. Don't try to play me for a fool, because I can almost guarantee that I'm much smarter than you are, and also, I have a gun, and it's very real and very loaded. So just consider that into your calculations."

I paused. I remembered Roger saying that under no circumstances am I ever to reveal my true name. I decided to try another tactic.

"I'm looking for Near," I said quietly.

He seemed even more angry with my response. He walked over to me quickly, limping with his cane. He pointed the gun directly, point-blank, to my head. I started hyperventilating with fear. Tears spilled out of my eyes. He was going to kill me. I pissed him off somehow and my brains were going to be splattered on this walkway. Caroline leaped off the ground and shouted.

"No, don't!" she shrieked.

"Get back on the ground or I will blow your fucking head off!"

She fell back to her knees, panting as hard I was, biting her knuckles and shaking. I kept my eyes locked to the ground. My fingers started to scratch the bricks of the walkway. My knuckles clenched and I felt the cold metal of the gun make contact with the top of my head.

"I'm not going to hurt either of you if you tell me what it is I want to know," he said, this time a little more calmly. "How do you know Near?"

I couldn't answer. I was panting and crying too hard.

"Look at me," he insisted. I couldn't move my head. I was paralyzed with fear. He then gruffly grabbed my chin and pulled my face up to look at him. His eyes were a golden brown color. I could see all the details and dents in his scarred face.

"Where do you come from?" he demanded.

I choked back my tears and swallowed the lump in my throat long enough to answer.

"I come from Whammy's House," I said.

"Is Sylvia your moniker, then?" he asked.

"Y-yes," I stammered.

I took a deep breath as he lowered the gun to his side.

"What's yours?" I dared ask.

"What?" he said.

"You know that I have a moniker," I said. "After I revealed to you that I was from Whammy's House, you desisted in trying to discover my true name. Which leads me to believe that you know the ultimate rule. You don't look old enough to be a member of the faculty, so I think you're another one of us."

"None of your business!" he said, visibly agitated. I knew I was pushing my luck badly, but I had a hunch.

"Are you another survivor?" I asked, hopeful. "Your face, your leg...did you manage to make it out as well?"

"There were no survivors," he said. "Other than you, apparently."

My heart sank. I was the only one. The only one of my generation left, of all the children. And then, I knew there was only one logical conclusion left.

"You're Mello," I said. "Aren't you?"

He didn't answer. He instead turned his attentions to Caroline.

"Who is she?" he demanded. "Are you another survivor?"

She was sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. He looked over to me for an answer.

"She's my roommate," I said. "She took me in. Her name's Caroline. Caroline Jones."

Suddenly, his demeanor changed. He walked over to her and knelt down in front of her. He looked at her, but this time without suspicion or aggression. It was more...curiosity. Even, hopefulness.

"Are your parents alive, Caroline?" he asked.

She looked up him. She started to compose herself, slowly. She looked at him intently through her swollen, puffy, red eyes. She sniffed a few times, swallowing her tears.

"When you were six years old," he began. "Were you in a foster home with William and Astrid Pentergrass, among two other girls and three boys?"

In the blink of an eye, she flung herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Her hands twisted into the fabric of his coat. He embraced her as well, petting her hair softly.

"I can't believe it," she breathed into his shoulder. "I can't believe it's you."

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't realize at first it was you, I didn't mean to frighten you."

He lifted her up to her feet, not breaking the embrace. He picked up his cane in one hand and kept one arm around Caroline.

"Come inside," he said. "We have a lot to discuss."

He led us up to the front step, through the wooden double doors. Inside was fairly dark, save for one lamp in the corner of the room. The room had two couches on either side, and surrounded by four thick walls, each with a wooden door and visible locks. Beside each door was an intercom system, which I assumed was connected to each room beyond the doors. Mello shut the front doors behind us and limped over to the door facing us and pressed the button on the intercom.

"Watari," he said. "We have welcome company after all. Please come out here."

The door clicked, and then opened. My eyes very much welcomed the sight of Roger stepping out of the room, which I could now see was a corridor. He shut the door softly behind him.

"Sylvia!" he said in surprise. "My goodness, you're alive!" A smile formed across his aged face.

"I managed to make it out of the tunnel," I said. Roger then walked over to Caroline.

"Hello young lady," he said. He reached out his hand politely. She gave him her hand and he shook it slightly.

"This is Caroline," Mello told him. "A very old friend of mine."

Roger gave her back her hand and dusted off his coat slightly.

"Allow me to bring you all some tea. I'm sure both of you have had a very tiring journey, and an even more exhausting encounter with this trigger happy young fellow," he said. He turned to the door to the right side of the room.

"Well I didn't know who it was," Mello said. He looked down the gun he was holding, and then turned and set it down on an armoire next to the door parallel to the front door. Roger disappeared behind the door on the right.

"So," I started. "Where's Near? He and I were once true friends and I was hopeful that he might be able to render some assistance."

Mello dropped his eyes to the floor, and tapped the head of his cane with his free hand. He sighed and looked back at me.

"Near is dead."

Suddenly I felt the room spin as the breath was sucked from my chest. My throat became dry and my legs felt like gelatin. I could feel my neck and head burning, and my heart seemed to be excreting a great pressure on my windpipe. Still, my face remained the same.

"When? How?" I said, breathlessly.

"He was killed in a building explosion about three years ago," he said. "Technically he died at the hospital, he was resuscitated, but was in a vegetative state. It was determined he had almost no chance of recovery. He was declared brain dead and his organs were donated."

"What kind of building explosion?"

"It was a bombing of a maximum security prison in Romania."

"Do you know how it happened?"

"I can't tell you that."

I felt cold, almost numb. On the way up to this place, I had built up some hope about seeing him again. Now he was gone, forever. There was no more hope.

"So are you acting as L now?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "My wife and I are."

I laughed slightly. "Attachments," I muttered.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Near was wrong," I said. "He said you'd lose out in the end because you were attached to somebody. Yet you're the one still alive."

"You're married?" Caroline said. "To who? Is she pretty?"

Roger re-entered the room carrying a fine silver tray with an antique teapot with four teacups. He set them down on the armoire, and served us each a cup. I recognized the scent as being jasmine. The warm liquid soothed my burning throat.

"Where's your wife?" Caroline asked again.

"She's away," he said. "She had some business to attend to. She'll be back in a few days I think."

"I want to see his grave," I said suddenly.

"Oh, I see," Roger began. He seemed to understand what I was talking about. "He is buried in the garden. I suppose I could escort you there tomorrow."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I said. "Why am I the last to know? You knew of my fondness towards him. I loved him, Roger. I deserved to know before seeking him out blindly."

"You weren't ready to know, Sylvia," he said. "And if you didn't have anything to run to, would you have been able to escape a certain doom?"

"And what do I have now?" I said. "What kind of life is left for me now? I've lost everything."

"Maybe you could be of some assistance in our new endeavor," Roger said.

"Who did it?" Sylvia said. "Who shot all the children? Who killed everyone in Whammy's House?"

"It was the Romanian government," Mello spoke up. "They blamed Near for the destruction of their prison. The explosion killed nearly everybody inside. They decided that all the children of the Orphanage were a threat and needed to be destroyed. They interpreted the program as a militarization scheme."

"And what 'new endeavor' is this that you're talking about?" I said.

"Before I tell you anything about that," Mello said. "I haven't forgotten that you arrived here by car. Since I saw the car drive away, and I know cars don't drive themselves, I know you had someone drive you here. Who drove you here?"

"It was a neighbor who lived down the street from Caroline and I," I said.

"How did you come to the point of him driving you here?"

"He knew who Near was," I said. "He offered to take me here. Caroline asked to come and he allowed it."

"How did he know who Near was?"

"He mentioned he was a part of some genetic experiment that Near had been in charge of."

"I see."

"What does it mean?"

"Even if I knew," Mello said, "I wouldn't tell you anyway."

"Why not?" I demanded. "I've volunteered all the information you asked for. What about me? Where are my answers?"

"If I decide you trustworthy, all will be revealed in time." Mello finished his cup of tea in one final gulp. I had neglected mine amongst the deep conversation. I looked over at Caroline, who had not only sat down on the couch, but managed to doze off. Roger set his cup back on the tray. I drank the remainder of my tea down quickly, even though it was cold now.

"I think perhaps it's time to retire to bed," Roger said. "You two will have to sleep in here, I'm afraid, for security reasons. All of the doors are locked and armed with alarms. I will wake you up one hour before breakfast. After that, we will start discussing your plans."

Mello and Roger both left out of the door on the back wall. I walked over to the couch opposite from where Caroline was fast asleep and collapsed into the soft cushions. I stared up at the high ceiling in this veritable fortress of a home. Somehow, I would have to manage this night of endlessness knowing that the one thing I was holding on to was gone.


	28. Open and Shut

Chapter XXVIII: Open and Shut

I was jolted awake several hours later to loud, crashing noises and voices. I jumped off the couch and walked over to the door on back wall. I pressed my ear to the door. I could hear Mello's voice shouting, but I couldn't make out anything of what he was saying. I heard Caroline stir from behind me.

"What's going on?" she said.

"I don't know."

I pressed the talk button on the intercom and spoke in to the microphone.

"Mello?" I said. "Roger? Is everything okay?"

I waited a few moments, but I didn't hear a response. I decided to investigate for myself. The doors into the back of the house were locked and equipped with alarms, so I walked to the front door and stepped out. The front lawn was quiet. I could hear shouting around back. I ran around to the side, through a path lined with trees, and into a garden. It was filled with ivy-covered trees and a menagerie of flowers. The entire thing was surrounded by a huge hedge forming a barrier. And the center, was a fountain in the shape of a globe, with water flowing from the top. I ducked into some rosebushes that were growing against the back wall of the house. I peered out over the top.

I saw Mello walk out into my view, brandishing a handgun. I looked out near the back wall of the hedge. I saw the silhouette of a person, beginning to vanish away. The person began to fire, and Mello immediately returned fire. He took cover behind a tree, only a hundred or so feet away from me. The fire fight continued mercilessly. I heard a rush of air and the heat of a bullet flying almost directly above my head. I decided it was time to go back inside, I was unarmed and vulnerable out here. I crept away around the corner and started running back down the path lined with trees. I turned the corner around to the front of the house and ran up to the front door.

As I walked in, Caroline got her feet in anxiety.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Mello's having a shoot out with somebody," I said. "I don't know who."

"I heard bangs and stuff," she said. "I'm really worried. Is he hurt? Why would someone shoot at him?"

"I don't know," I said.

And then, I noticed it. All of the doors now had green lights lit on them. I walked over to the one on the back wall. I placed my hand on the handle and applied pressure. My heart fluttered when the door gave way and opened slightly.

"What are you doing?" Caroline whispered.

"I'll be right back," I whispered back. "Stay here."

I slowly and quietly entered the dim corridor, and shut the door quietly behind me. I crept down the hallway, quiet as the grave. My heart was pounding. I didn't know what Mello would do if he caught me, but I didn't imagine it to be anything good. But I needed to know what was going on. As I got closer to the end, I found one door that was slightly ajar. I peered through the sliver of an entryway, trying to see if anyone was inside. I couldn't see anybody, but I was unable to see the corners. It was a gamble, but I decided to risk it. I pushed the door open softly.

I was alone. The room was small, most of the space taken up by bookshelves. In the corner was a desk with a computer. On the desk was also a newspaper clipping. I picked it up. It was an obituary page. The paper had been folded to display precisely one in particular:

_Mei-Yu Chang-Blackthrone passed away this last Saturday of pneumonia. The wife of famed entrepreneur David James Blackthorne, she'd had a long battle with Alzheimer's, and suffered a tragedy with the death of her son and beloved social worker, Mitchell Adam Blackthorne (who was widely believed to be murdered by Kira after he was indicted on charges for sexual misconduct with a minor. Official confirmation has yet to be released) She is survived by her husband and daughter, Morgan Anne Blackthorne. She was 64 years old._

Near the computer monitor, I saw a framed photo. I picked it up and looked at it. The picture was of a woman, who appeared to be in her mid to late twenties. She was pale and had a number of freckles on her face, and her hair was jet-black, curly, and cropped short to her chin. In the photo, she was wearing what looked like a very fashionable top. She was smiling; it was definitely a candid shot. I put the picture down, and then I saw a piece of paper that had been sitting under it. It was old and worn. I picked it up and unfolded it.

_Morgan,_

_I miss you. Things are not going well, but I may come by to visit if I can. I'm sorry I haven't been able to call you. I never say this enough, but I do love you, and my bed is so much emptier without you in it. Sorry, I'm not very skilled in emoting._

_Stay safe._

_Yours,_

_L. Lawliet_

L Lawliet? The same L who had been our mentor, our idol, the person we were groomed to become? Had L been involved the same Morgan Blackthorne mentioned in the obituary? What did Mello and Near have to do with her? It seemed that now, all the answers rested with this Morgan. I turned my attentions to the computer. I opened the main hard drive folder and ran a search for "kira". And I found it. A huge document file. The Kira case file. I attempted to open it. It asked for a password. I entered the name "Watari" and it worked. I was rather shocked that Mello had picked such a stupid password, but I was thankful that he made my job easier by doing so.

The file was enormous, and I knew I didn't have time to read it here. I pushed print and watched as a stream of papers spilled out of the printer under the desk. I gathered them quickly. But just as soon as I had finished stacking them in order, I heard a door down the hall open and shut. And then I heard footsteps. I realized, then and there, I had lingered there far too long. I scrambled, putting the printed case file under the desk. I hurried to close the window I had been using to view and print the case file. I put the computer's desktop back exactly as it had been. My heart was pounding in my ears as I heard footsteps get closer. I rolled swiftly under the desk and out of sight, covering my mouth with my hand to mask the sound of my breathing.

I saw leather boots enter the room. He stopped for a moment. I heard the sound of a voice on a cell phone.

"No, Noëlle is okay," he said. "She's a little frightened, but completely unharmed."

The voice spoke again. "I know love," he said. "Are you coming home tomorrow? We need to talk about our...unexpected guests. You are? Good, because I miss you. How was the funeral?" I heard a few moments of sound come from the phone.

"I'm sure it's difficult, and your situation makes it especially hard, I think."

Then it hit me. Morgan Blackthorne was Mello's wife. And yet I had found that letter to her from L, talking about love and such...did Mello know? He would have to, the letter was lying out in plain sight...

"I'll talk to you in the morning. I love you," he said. "Okay. Bye."

Then, he suddenly turned his attentions over to the computer.

"What the fuck is this shit?" he said. "Fuck! That fucking bloodsucker!" I heard a button click.

"Watari," he said. "Whoever that was managed to access the case file and print it. So we can safely assume that they don't know about the notebook. Well, they know now. Make sure the notebook is secured at all times. We can't risk it falling into the wrong hands."

What notebook? I felt slightly relieved that he didn't know it was me, but I was still scared as hell. All he would have to do is walk out into the front room and see that I was not there, and then realize I had been snooping. I saw him turn and walk out of the room quickly. I waited until I heard him enter another room and shut the door. I scrambled up and ran as quietly as I could, clutching the file, back to the front room. I tried to open the door. My stomach sank. The door was locked again. I turned around and then my heart just about flipped over.

There, attached to the ceiling, was the glint of a surveillance camera. I dropped to my knees and started breathing heavily. It was recorded that I had been back here and that I had stolen the file. I thought at first about putting the file back, maybe try to show them I hadn't read it. But I knew that they would see me take it in the first place, and they would know the only reason I was giving it back was because I knew I was caught. I thought about running away, but I had no vehicle, let alone a place to go. I had exhausted all of my safe havens. I knew the only way I could get away with this, assuming I could even get out, was to destroy the surveillance equipment. Because there was no disturbance, nobody trying to find me and stop me, the cameras must have been recording, not streaming live.

I tucked the file under my arm and continued down the hallway some, taking great care in being quiet while passing the room Mello was in. I peeked into one room. It was only a study, no computers. I looked in the one across the hall, just a closet. I moved back up one on the same side. I looked inside, I saw a computer monitor. On the screen, was a feed of the camera I had just seen. I looked around and found a pot of old, cold coffee. I hastily unplugged the computer, and pulled the case out from under the desk. I opened the chassis of the computer and exposed the electronics inside. I grabbed the coffee pot and dumped its contents into the inside of the computer. I then quickly put the case back on and pushed it back under the desk. I placed the pot back on the coffee maker.

I looked back out into the hall way, looking for a way out. I walked across the hall and peered into the room; it was a bathroom. The window had been broken out. This must have been where the intruder had entered the house. The window was high up and narrow. I knew I would need the full dexterity of my hands and arms. I set the file down, and looked around for something to bind the papers. I remembered that Mello had long hair and probably wore it in a ponytail sometimes. I looked on the counter and found what I was looking for. I found a black hair-tie. I then rolled the papers into a cylinder and tied them with the hair-tie.

I climbed onto the toilet and looked through the window. It was a long way down, and I would land on some thorny rosebushes. I took the papers, and dropped them down first. They landed on the ground next to the bushes. I then began to slide myself through the window. I slid head first, trying to avoid cutting myself on the broken glass. I pulled my upper body torso out. As I was sliding my legs through I realized I should have gone feet first. I began to tumble wildly to the ground.

I landed awkwardly in the bush. Pain exploded in my head, back and right knee. My hands and arms were scraped badly. I lay there for a moment, in pain, but also in a bit of relief. I had gotten out of the hallway. All I had to do now was go around to the front of the house. I got up slowly, brushing myself off. I picked up the file and started walking back around to the front of the house. I walked up to the front door and peered through the glass. Caroline saw me and stood up. I opened the door softly and closed it behind me.

"What happened?" she said. "How did you get hurt?"

"I had to climb out of a bathroom window," I said. "But Caroline...I found something. Something huge."

I unbundled the papers and began to look through them. The information was just too incredible to believe. A notebook that kills people, gods of death wielding them, and one that fell into the hands of a deranged young man. The file revealed that Kira – Raito Yagami- had officially taken over the case as "L" after the real L had been killed. I found out that L had been killed by a death god, or shinigami, after a plan that had been hatched by Raito had come full circle. And then it mentioned Near and his group, the SPK, coming into the picture, along with Mello...and Morgan. It said very little of her except for some records of an arrest as an accomplice to Mello along with a number of fruitless interrogations.

It also mentioned her at the end of the file, with a transcript of things said during a final meeting which ended in the arrest of Raito Yagami, and ultimately his death by the hands of his own shinigami. And finally I got to see photos of the entire Japanese task force, the SPK, Morgan's mugshot, and Raito Yagami. And then the resemblance struck me.

"Is that..." I started. "Is that Thrace?"

"Sure looks like him," Caroline said. "Not surprising that two creeps would look alike."

"Oh wait," I said. "There's a couple more pages here."

I found a couple of pages in the very back. They appeared to be telephone transcripts between Morgan and Near. As I read them, I felt confusion, and then anger boil up. Certain names were blacked out in the transcript, but I could infer what was being discussed.

_N: __I think it's real cute how you call him -. In that sweet little soft voice of yours. I'd love to hear you say my name like that. And then, you would bite your soft little lip and stare innocently at your feet, right? And your pretty curly hair would fall over your face, so delicately._

_Blackthorne: __Jackass._

_N: I love it when you call me that. It really turns me on._

And then further down the page...

_Blackthorne: Thanks for this. You're still and incredible jackass, though._

_N: And you're an ungrateful bitch. But I love you._

_Blackthorne: You're a dirty little git._

_N: I love it when you talk British to me. It turns me on almost as much as "jackass."_

But there was one towards the top that infuriated me the most.

_N: Morgan, are you alone?_

_Blackthorne: Not really. Are you going to come after me?_

_N: No, the only reason you got away is because I made it so. _

_Blackthorne: Look, I got to go. Thanks for busting me out, but..._

_N: Okay, Okay. I just want to let you know, I'm coming to Japan tomorrow. Come to room 157 at the Teito Hotel at eleven forty-seven PM. It will be just me, promise._

Why was Near meeting her in a hotel? Did he have some sort of relationship with her? The only word that came into my mind at that point was "slut." That's the only thing I could think of her. She had her hands in all the cookie jars. And from the looks of things, she was acting as L alongside Mello.

She didn't deserve that. She wasn't raised to be one of us. Mello, Near and I were exceptional. We were born for it. She was just an ordinary woman with a loose interpretation of commitment and a silver spoon in her mouth. She was usurper. If anyone was going to act as L alongside Mello, it was going to be me. She was just his ostentatious housewife.

"Are you okay?" Caroline asked me. I was visibly upset by what I just read.

"I'm fine," I said.

"I take it you're not a fan of this Morgan woman, then?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Don't do anything rash," she warned. "Bide your time. Wait for the right moment. And then bring her down. Destroy her."

"I'll put that crow in her place," I said through clenched teeth.

Dawn began to filter through the windows around the front door. I continued to reread the file again and again. I had to make sure what I was reading was real. But it all made sense somehow. How else was Kira able to kill so many all at once? But more questions were bubbling through my head.

"Caroline," I said. "Have you noticed who Mello looks like?"

"Nathaniel?" she said. "Yeah. I did notice. Maybe it's a coinky-dink?"

"I no longer believe in coincidences. Everything is connected somehow. And he mentioned a genetic experiment involving Near, but nothing of that nature was in the case file."

"Maybe it happened after the fact. It seems that even after Kira's arrest there's still more to be found."

"I can't risk another adventure," I said. "I already destroyed their surveillance equipment. And printing the Kira case file left a track on the computer. Without another diversion, it'll be impossible to gather more information. The only way to not leave a trace is to destroy the information computer as well, but that would erase all of it except for what we have. Or at least anything that's close to being readily available. And then, when they find it destroyed, that's going to look really suspicious."

"I have an idea," Caroline said.

"What?"

"Well, we know the crow plays dirty. Maybe the best way to cipher information from Mello is to play to his passions."

"I hardly see that working," I said. "I'm not exactly experienced. I'm nineteen and a virgin. But wait. Maybe that could work to my favor. It would make me more trustworthy in terms of a romantic partner, definitely more so than the crow. Because her history is printed all over these pages. The only yarn I have to spin is a tragic young love story."

"About how you're oh so sad," Caroline smiled.

"Perhaps it's not a bad idea," I said. "Definitely worth considering."

I heard footsteps walking towards us.

"Shit!" I said. "Here, hide it under the couch."

We stuffed the file under the couch. Caroline threw herself under the blankets. And I rushed over to the other side of the room and flung myself onto the cushions and under the blanket. Just as soon as I landed, Roger opened the door.

"Good morning ladies," he said. "I hope you'll pardon the disturbance last night. We had a minor situation. But all is well."

Roger walked over to the door on the right side of the room. I watched him hold a key card to a shiny portion on the intercom. A green light lit up.

"If you ladies would please follow me, I'll have you fed and watered."

Roger opened the door. Caroline and I tumbled out of bed and shuffled over to the door and made our way through it. Inside was a small, but nice dining area. The table and chairs appeared to be fine antiques, made of a warm, bright colored wood and covered in subtle, elaborate carvings. On the table was a plate of what appeared to be french toast. Another had scrambled eggs, and another had bacon. The smell of the bacon wafted into my nose and ignited a burning hunger.

I sat down in one chair and Caroline sat next to me. Roger began backing out of the door.

"I will be back in a few minutes after you have finished eating. Then, I will take you to the grave, as promised."

Roger disappeared out of the door and shut it behind him. Caroline and I ate in silence. We had both been starving, eating only junk food snacks out of convenience stores the day before. The food was well-made. It was apparent that Roger, Mello and Morgan had cooks in their employ. Not long after we finished, Roger re-entered the room.

"Are you prepared to go out to the garden?" he asked.

I nodded. She did as well. We got up from our chairs and followed Roger out of the door. We exited the house out of the front door. We began walking around the side of the house, the same path I had taken last night. I tried to look up in wonder as though I had never seen before. It did look nicer in the daylight. The leaves were beginning to turn to autumn colors. Leaves that had already fallen crunched lightly beneath our feet. As we turned the corner, the garden came into view. The globe fountain shined marvelously in the daylight.

We walked farther into the garden, along a stone pathway that cut through the floral menagerie. In the very back, against the hedge wall, was a large, grey, marble grave stone. At the bottom a small torch burned. The base was surrounded by flowers of all colors.

His true name was written on the grave stone.

_Nate River_

Underneath the name was the carving of a chess piece. It was beautifully appropriate. I stared at the grave for several moments. This was the visual confirmation. He had not survived. He was gone. I reached my hand out to touch the stone. My fingers made brief contact with the cool surface.

But then something collided with the back of my head. I vaguely remember falling, just the slightest sensation of touching the ground. My sight went black, and I could just barely hear the tiniest echo to the start of a scream before the world went dead.


	29. A House Divided

A/N: I apologize this is fairly short. My updates will be a little less frequent for a while, because my work schedule is more intensive plus I have other commitments. I'll do what I can Dx

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Chapter XXIX: A House Divided

I felt consciousness return to me, but my eyes were still shut. A sharp, throbbing ache bloomed in my skull, centering around the back of my head. I felt like the room was tilting, even though I was sure I was sitting quite still. I was sitting in what felt like a wooden chair. My wrists were handcuffed together. My ass hurt from the stiff wood I had been sitting on for god knows how long. I slowly peeked my eyes open.

There she was, sitting across from me. Her coal-black eyes were locked on me. Morgan Blackthorne. In her right hand, she had a cigarette perched between her two fingers. I looked in front of me. There was a metal table. On the table there was leather suitcase, sitting in the center, along with an ashtray on the other side, near Morgan. She took a quick drag, and puffed out smoke from her mouth.

"Do you know who I am?" She asked me. She had a smooth voice with a British accent.

"No," I said. I didn't know what was going on, but I knew it was too early to surrender any information.

She held her cigarette over the ashtray and flicked the butt gently to ash it.

"Unbind her hands, Mello."

I felt an intimidating energy draw closer behind me. I heard the jingle of keys, and I nearly jumped out of the seat when I felt leather gloves graze my hands. I felt the tension of the cuffs release and my wrists became free. I moved my arms, and my shoulders ached from stiffness. I placed my hands in my lap and readjusted my sitting position, causing more pain in my lower back. Morgan took a slow drag on her cigarette, looking down at the suitcase. Her eyes looked back up at me.

"I want you to open the suitcase and reach inside," she said.

I stared at the suitcase hesitantly. I was fearful of what I was going to find inside.

"Go on," I heard Mello say aggressively from behind me. "Do it."

I reached my hands out slowly, while trying to keep them from shaking. I slowly undid the clasp on the front and pulled the flap open. I carefully reached my right hand into it. My fingertips touched something that felt like paper. My hand folded around a large stack of papers. They felt slightly crumpled and creased. Like they had been folded and read. My heart skipped a beat. It was the case file I had taken.

"Pull it out and set it on the table," she said.

I did as she said, slowly pulling the stack out. I set it gingerly on the table, staring at it, like it was my death right there.

"Look familiar?" she asked.

I said nothing. My throat was dry and sticky, and my heart was pounding beyond measure.

"Look at me," she demanded. My eyes slowly rose up to meet her fierce gaze.

"What is this?" she asked.

"It's a copy of the Kira case file," I said in barely a whisper.

"Thieving rat!" Mello spat.

A wave of nonexistent heat crashed over me. I began to sweat with fear. I was in very deep trouble.

"After what we've done for you," Mello said angrily. "You've undermined the entire Whammy's House project, as well as all of our collective efforts as L!"

"Calm down, Mello," Morgan said calmly. "Fury has a time and place, dear. But it's not now."

She took a final drag of cigarette and smushed it out in the ashtray. Her eyes fixed on me. It was very clear she was a worthy opponent.

"Who was it?" she said. "Who did you have break into the house? Threaten the life of my child? Shoot at Mello?"

"I didn't have anything to do with that!" I said.

"Oh really?" she said doubtfully.

"Look, I know the invasion and then me stealing to case file and wrecking your surveillance might look strange, but..."

"I think the word you're groping for is fishy. Or maybe distrustful, or even equivocal," Mello said.

"Given how perfectly it all falls together, I have a hard time believing that you were not involved in orchestrating the attack," Morgan said. "I can practically smell the guilt radiating off of you."

"I was using the intrusion as a cover," I said. I could feel tears starting to form. My eyelids were white hot. "I took advantage of the chaos to go snooping."

"But like I said," Morgan said. "It all falls together perfectly. Our security systems automatically release the locks on the doors and disable their alarms if our base comes under attack."

"Um," I said. "That seems a little counter-intuitive."

"It's not really," she said. "It allows us to move throughout the house quicker. And besides, we have a fail-safe. Do you know what that is?"

"No," I said.

"We have heat-sensitive monitors on the door handles," she said. "They track when the heat signature of a human touches the door when the door is unlocked. Because we can verify that neither Mello, Roger, nor the assailant were even in that front room, we know that it had to be either you or the other girl. By identifying the object in the suitcase, you've admitted your own guilt. And it couldn't have been a second assailant, because if you really were innocent, I would think the second party would have tried to harm you, or at the very least, you would have raised alarm about it."

I tried to swallow, but I felt my throat stick together. She reached into the pocket of her pants and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She pulled one out and pressed it between her lips.

"You don't smoke, do you?" she asked.

"No," I said quietly. "But I don't suppose just one could do much harm."

She pulled out another one and slid it across the table. I took it and put it in my mouth like she had hers. She pulled out a butane lighter with a large dent like it had been shot. She flicked a circular trigger and fire appeared out of the top. She leaned over and lit mine as well. I took a puff and inhaled slightly. I coughed a bit, but felt a slight calming sensation fall through me. Just enough to take the edge off.

"Like I was saying," she said, smoke billowing from her nose. "It's hard to believe that you weren't involved in this attack. An unknown person comes and attacks our house, which causes the doors to unlock and grants you access to our computers. The trace on the computer and the destruction of the surveillance computer could be blamed on the attack."

"I told you that if you proved trustworthy, I'd tell you what you wanted to know," Mello said.

"Knowing what I know now," I said. "I doubt that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she said.

I didn't say anything. I just stared. I took a second drag of the cigarette. I coughed only a little this time. I could taste of hint of mintyness.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked a second time.

"You're the woman who screwed my boyfriend."

She didn't say anything this time. She just looked at me.

"Did Near ever mention me?" I said.

"No."

And that's when I noticed it. The scar on her chest. A line straight down the middle disappearing into her shirt.

"Did you have heart surgery?" I asked.

"Three years ago," she said.

"Because I seem to recall hearing Near had donated his organs," I said. "Was it a heart transplant?"

"That's none of your business!" Mello said. "You're in no position to be asking questions. In case you haven't noticed, you're in deep shit."

I could see I was getting no where trying to turn the tables on her. They were a team, tightly knit, fiercely loyal. I knew the only chance I had was to speak with Mello separately and divide them with doubt.

"So what now?" I said. "What are you going to do to me?"

"She knows too much," Mello said.

I gasped. I knew what he was implying.

"Are...are you going to kill me?" I breathed.

"I'd really rather not," Morgan said. "But we do have ourselves a little pickle, don't we? While I'm not entirely convinced that you're as innocent as you claim, I think killing you would be premature, to say the least. I think the best first step we can take is to verify your identity and detain you. And you can be assured that this time there will be no exploring, and your lodgings will not be as comfortable as they were previously, since you no longer enjoy our trust. However, we cannot keep you that way for very long without some form of warrant. The British Parliament has been less than helpful to us lately, so that begs the question of what to do. We cannot let you walk out of here, not with what you know, especially if you are involved with the attacker. But for now, you will be held in a secured room, with the other girl, until we have decided upon the next step. Is that okay with you, Mello?"

"Sounds fine," he said. "We have five days to detain them before we need an official warrant."

"Very well," she said. "Have Roger try to get that bloody constable on the horn again."

"Put your hands back behind your back," Mello instructed me. "If you try any funny business, I will hit you on the back of your head again."

I placed my hands around the back of the chair as he told me. I felt the cold metal bind around my wrists again. He also tied a strip of black cloth around my eyes, blinding me to the outside world. I felt his gloved hand grasp my right arm, pulling me to my feet. My back and legs ached badly, and I could feel my joints pop. As we exited the room, after I heard the door shut, I listened carefully. Just two sets of footsteps; mine, and Mello's. Now was my chance.

"Please forgive my forwardness with your wife," I said. "I was just rather fond of Near and I found some things I read to be perturbing."

He didn't say anything.

"I wouldn't do anything to sabotage your endeavor, whatever it may be," I said. "Do you believe I collaborated with the attacker?"

"I don't know," he said.

We stopped. I heard the click of a door unlocking. The door opened and we stepped through. I heard the door shut behind us. His hand released from my arm.

"I'm going to remove your shackles and blindfold now."

Once again, I felt the weight of the metal disappear from my wrists. He removed the blindfold from my eyes. As he turned to leave, I quickly grabbed his wrist, not aggressively, but pleadingly. He turned back to me. His expression was cold and emotionless.

"Do you not suppose..." I began. "Do you not suppose you could answer perhaps a few questions of mine? Do not think that I'm not aware of what position I'm in, I know I have betrayed your trust and I haven't paid you the great respect that I owe you. After all, you were far ahead of me in line for the succession."

"I guess so," he sighed.

"After the explosion in the building," I said. "Did...did he feel any pain?"

"According to Morgan, he was only actually alive for a few moments afterwards. He died on the scene once, but was resuscitated. He was declared brain-dead and Roger signed off for his viable organs to be donated."

"I'm sorry for it," I said. "I would have hoped he'd have died quickly and with no pain. But I suppose if he had, then a few people wouldn't be alive today."

I thought carefully about how I would proceed.

"Were the original L's organs donated as well?" I asked.

"No."

"I find that rather strange, considering Near wanted to conduct himself in many of the same ways that L did. Was it his expressed wish for this to happen?"

"No," he said. "But given the circumstances, we're confident that that's what he would have wanted."

"What circumstances?"

He just looked at me, again.

"I'm sorry," I said. "It was too bold of me to ask."

"Anything else?" he asked.

"No," I said. "That's it for now." I slowly released my hand from his arm, letting my fingers graze down his wrist.

He turned to leave, but I could see a shift in him. Like a seed had been planted, and now a plan was in motion. Play to his passions. The door shut behind him. I knew, to some people's perspective, what I was doing was manipulative, maybe even evil, but to me, it was just business. I had to work my way into this "endeavor" of theirs, but Morgan was an obstacle. An obstacle to be overcome, nothing more. It was very clear to me that even though Mello was logically brilliant, he was emotionally stupid. All I had to do was to plant the seeds of doubt in him.

END OF PART 5


	30. Plot recap, Cast and Clarification

Blood and Sugar

Cast, Plot Re-cap, and Clarification

**Morgan Blackthorne**

Morgan is the lead character of this story.

She is highly intelligent and posseses deductive capabilities close to L's, but is highly impulsive and is often conquered by her irrational emotions rather than logic. She is notoriously self-centered and egotistical. She is very sexually attractive, and has a special "gravity" towards people. Her sexual nature is key to one of the main themes of this story, which is the role of sex in society. You'll find here that sex is used for blackmail, leverage and personal gain. Her sensuality is both a great strength and weakness.

Early in the story, she was rather immature and badly impulsive which damaged her relationships and credibility (such as her affair with Near) but later begins to grow up and desire a more emotionally satisfying relationship (her marriage to Mello)

Her marriage to Mello was, however, initially a tool to avoid death by Raito's hand. If you read between the lines, after being assaulted in the Hotel by him, it's easy to assume he had her name written in the Notebook. But he had no way of knowing that by her marriage to Mello, her name had changed and the Notebook was then ineffective.

Later, she learns to appreciate the devotion and protection Mello offers, and the true passion their relationship has.

Morgan met L while attending University when she was 17 and he was 18. The next couple of chapters will detail the history and complexities of her relationship with L.

**Sawyer Lee Fennely a.k.a "Sylvia"**

Sawyer is a new main character I've added to the mix. She was a ward of Whammy's House in Winchester before it was destroyed.

She was a love interest of Near before Near left to work on the Kira case. They had a brief, innocent relationship (they were both quite young at the time) but she was ultimately rejected. She finds further insult when she discovers Near had tried to court Morgan.

Sawyer, being a Whammy kid, is extremely bright. Unlike Morgan, she is distant and calculating, but has a jealous streak. She uses emotional manipulation to her advantage. She tries to use sex as an influence like Morgan does, but does not have the same allure and is ultimately very naïve about the subject.

Sawyer and Morgan will become enemies, and one will destroy the other.

**Mitchell Blackthorne**

Mitch is Morgan's older brother, killed by Kira after he was falsely accused of molesting a child. He was a social worker. He was very kind and nurturing by nature. In the next couple of chapters, he will appear. He acted as a guardian and confidant to Morgan, providing her guidance and structure that she lacked.

**Laure Lawliet "L"**

"Laure" is a first name I invented for L, it is not part of the canon.

L is not in the story very much because the story begins with his last day alive.

L was in a long term relationship with Morgan for 6 years prior to the story. At first, both being in college and while L was on hiatus from being a detective, they have an amusing, light-hearted courtship. But when they graduate, and L goes back to his old life, he finds dealing with a woman with a similar personality to him (passive aggressive, egotistical, and self-centered) immensely frustrating. Morgan will not desist in trying to find out what L does for a living, and is smart enough to start piecing it together. He finds it impossible to protect her from the truth, and is forced to compromise to her and give in to a desire of hers (which will be revealed in the next couple of chapters)

**Mihael Keehl "Mello"**

Mello, like in the canon, is highly aggressive and competitive.

However, instead of letting him die like he did in Death Note, I diverged from the canon and saved his life.

Mello encounters Morgan as a pre-teen when she accompanies L on a holiday visit to Whammy's House. Mello's rebellious streak is relatable to her and befriends him, providing him with love and compassion he was deprived of as a child. When he grows up, he begins to have feelings for her which emotionally tortures him. He feels an overwhelming desire to possess and protect her. His devotion to her is only matched by his desire to win.

Mello, throughout the canon is plagued by the want to be better than Near. When he learns of Morgan's infidelity with Near, is crushed and temporarily separates from her, forcing her to stay with Near for several weeks. This was his effort to push her to make a conscious decision about their marriage, instead of passively accepting whatever comes. Morgan leaves Near and returns to Mello. Despite the shattered trust, Mello decides to reconcile with her because he finally had a victory against Near. He fathers a child with her, named Noëlle.

Later on, after taking in and subsequently detaining Sawyer, he begins to question how he views his wife and the reality of what she truly is.

**Nate River "Near"**

Near, like in the canon, is cold. He enjoys puzzles and mind games. He attempts to court Morgan as a game but is ultimately unsuccessful. He manages to seduce her into one sexual encounter but cannot make her fall for him, despite his clever flirtation and manipulation.

He is killed in an explosion of a Romanian prison where he had imprisoned Mello. He is declared brain dead in a hospital (this was intentional for its cruel irony) and his heart is donated to Morgan after her heart spontaneously fails due to having her name written in the Death Note. Before he dies, he suddenly realizes his life has been devoid of emotional satisfaction and begs Morgan to confess love for him, whether or not it was true, just to have one moment of true love in his life.

**Raito "Light" Yagami**

I referred to Light by his Japanese name to make the cultural differences a little more realistic.

In the canon, Raito manipulated and used women as pawns in his game. He's obviously an egomaniacal sociopath. I played to this greatly and brought his misogyny to light. He hates women who don't do what he says. He takes Morgan as a great insult, because she didn't follow his orders and had a hand in his loss to Near. He sees women as inferior and stupid, like Misa Amane. Even though Takada had more common sense, she was still manipulated all too easily.

**HOW MORGAN SURVIVES THE DEATH NOTE:**

In case it wasn't clear in the story, I will explain how she dodges death.

The name switch

After her assault by Raito, he has her name written in the notebook as insurance that she dies. At this point she's under the radar and completely invisible to the task force, so her death wouldn't necessarily convict Raito. But right before this happens, she marries Mello and changes her last name to his, and Raito does not know this.

Heart of a Shinigami

Morgan finds a locket that her brother lost some years ago. It's a special item that Shinigami possess that can grant a human invincibility from the Death Note, (including their name and lifespan being hidden) and also allows a human to visit Muu (Nothingness, the place a soul goes when the person dies) and retrieve a soul of someone who has only recently died. It only works with those whose bodies have not decomposed, which is why L could not be revived. Also, the shinigami can sense a human presence in Muu. The Heart was necessary to add because otherwise, Mello and Morgan would be too easy to kill by Raito as a shinigami.

Pregnancy

The Death Note does not work on people under the age of 780 days. Moreover, any cause of death that would cause another person to die would not work and the person would just die of a heart attack. Because Noëlle was a fetus at the time, she couldn't be killed by the Death Note, so Morgan had to give birth first. It bought enough time to find a medical intervention. Morgan's heart was not beating for a period of time, and she was technically dead for a while. Because of Near's heart, she was able to fulfill the requirements of "death" (no beating heart) but still survive.

Another Death Note rule

The way Mello and Morgan have survived so long with Raito as a shinigami is because shinigami can only hunt human prey for 82 hours at a time. As long as they stay hidden or carry the Heart with them during travel, they are safe. Raito or any other shinigami cannot find them in through the hole in the shinigami world because although he knows their names, he's never had the eyes before and has never seen their lifespans.

"**Why is Morgan a slut?"**

This is something I've been asked a few times. At first glance, all the sex seems a little trashy. But this story, aside from being a fan-fiction written for entertainment, is also a commentary on sex in society and misogyny. Death Note had some rather sexist undertones in my opinion. I'm sort of pointing them out here.

That's the end of the re-cap and explanation. If you have any questions, leave a review and I'll address them later on. The next couple of chapters, as I said before, will provide the history of L and Morgan's relationship, and will help set up the plot to the last part of the story. There's only one arc left, so this 4 year labor of love will be wrapping up soon.


End file.
